Learning How to Grieve
by IrishEyesAreSmiling
Summary: The war has just ended and Harry cannot move on from past mistakes. He has ran to the Muggle world to escape them, but the harder he attempts to do right, the more the grief continues to consume him. When your purpose in life was to die, how do you learn to live? (dealing with PTSD..you know, like you would expect :) mild substance use
1. Peace and Ire

The sheets felt amazing to his searing skin. For once in three years Harry Potter felt as though he could sleep without fear, and he could not wait to let the world disappear. Moments before, the remaining Death Eaters had fled, leaving the students and teachers left to roam the halls of Hogwarts with relief. Harry remembered the cheers and crying after Voldemort had been murdered at last, and Harry himself could not believe it. After all this time, it was done. Just like that. He did not know if it was adrenaline or fatigue, but Harry fell to the grounds of Hogwarts in heap in attempt to steady his breathing—it was finally over.

"Harry!" Ginny screamed. He felt her frantic hands grab his shoulders turn him over to his back. He squinted in pain. "Harry, you're going to be fine! Poppy is coming!

Harry could hear the older woman attempting to get through the crowds, clinking the box of potions she had been furiously passing out for hours. "MOVE! Out of the way, Longbottom!"

He turned and saw Hermione over Ginny, and she was smiling softly, relieved and proud. Harry tried to return it, but found the tearing in his lungs impossible to ignore. Harry whispered to Ginny, "I can't breathe, it hurts."

Ginny's hands tightened but Madame Pomfrey did not give her a chance to speak through her tears. "Potter! Thank Merlin you are here! Out of the way!" She shooed Ginny away quickly and began muttering to herself, fumbling over his body to see the damage. "Nothing I cannot fix, I can promise you that." Pomfrey noted. She removed three vials from the box and sighed. "I only have what can heal your ribs and lungs. The pain potion is a low dose. I need you to take these and rest the best you can, Potter. I must brew more of the stronger pain relievers." Before Harry could politely tell her anything she gave him was sufficient, his throat burned of vapors and sent his lungs bursting in pain. Harry screamed in protest, forced down by Pomfrey, but in a glorious instant, the pain faded so he could at last take a deep breath of smoky air. Hogwarts was still smoldering.

"Help him to bed!" came McGonagall's voice. Harry was fading fast from pain and weariness and he felt himself pulled up by Ron and Neville. "Griffyndor common room with him, and make sure one of you stays in the common room!" She didn't need to say more before Harry felt himself drag off inside the castle.

…...

It was morning when Harry was placed in his bed and fell asleep instantly. Ron gave a huge sigh of relief watching his best friend's chest rise and fall, thinking that moments ago he had lost another brother in the family. He choked back his tears and Neville patted his back sympathetically. "We've done it, mate. He's done it. I'll be done in the common room and you be with your family."

Ron nodded, suddenly feeling his heart sink at the thought of his Mother and Father alone with Fred's body. "Thanks, Neville. You were great out there, you really were."

Neville nodded with a smirk and gestured to the stairs. He was going to get himself the largest cup he could find and fill it with Firewhiskey—Merlin they deserved it!

…...

Pain shot through Harry's muscles and forced him to wake from his sleep. He moaned deeply, feeling everything burn and spasm like they had to one by one attach back to his bones. Groaning, Harry lifted himself from his pillow and noticed that it was dark and the moon lit up the lake below. "How long have I been asleep?" he wondered. Everything hit him at once—the bodies, Voldemort's laughter, dead, empty eyes...and Dumbledore. Harry glanced around frantically, analyzing the dark room around him, but he could find no danger. The painfulness in his body was sure proof he was still alive, yet it also proved to be an inconvenience as he was feeling voraciously hungry. Stumbling, he made it to the door and slid against the wall until he made it to the common area. Harry smiled, relieved, as he saw all those important to him huddled in the corner with glasses of pumpkin juice and trays of sandwiches. Their voices were pleasant to listen to.

Hermione saw him first. She stood immediately. "Harry, you're awake! We knew you would be exhausted." Harry accepted her embrace without thought and grinned at Ron.

Ginny squealed and almost knocked all the glasses over. "Oh, Harry, you were asleep for hours! Do you feel all right? Do we need to get Pomfrey?"Ron rolled his eyes over her behavior.

Harry laughed. "Yes, actually. I can barely move, but how are all of you? What time is it?"

Ginny left at once and Hermione led him to the reading chair and handed him a sandwich and drink before replying. "We slept most of the day also. I think we've only been awake for a few hours now. Too much to do. Most of the students ate in the Great Hall but we missed the meal so they gave us this for now."

Harry felt as if time were infinite. He was horribly confused. "Yes, but what time is it?"

Ron laughed. "About 10:00 at night."

Harry couldn't believe it. He was also concerned. "But what about the school? Who's helping McGonagall sort everything out? What did they do with Voldemort's body?" Eating did not seem so critical at the moment.

"Don't worry about it, Harry,"Hermione sighed, pushing the food closer to him. "The Ministry has begun working out a plan and getting everyone on a train back to London." She looked at his angry face. "Kingsley is in charge, you know? He will get it done right, and he already made sure Voldemort was gone. Dumped out in the ocean as far as you can see."

It didn't seem to satisfy him. Harry took a bite of the sandwich and glared at the floor. He should be helping the Ministry do all of this. Instead he was upstairs sleeping and letting everyone else take care of it. "I need to support him. I want to get Lupin and Tonks somewhere so we can bury them. And what about the others? McGonagall will need me to help her!"

This time Ron waved for Harry to relax. His mouth was stuffed with food but he talked anyway. "She knew you would say that, mate. That's why they did most of it when you were asleep."

Harry shoved the rest of the sandwich in his mouth and pouted a moment on the couch. "They are still doing it! They think I can't do anything. I just died and came back to life, don't they know that?"

It was still for a moment. "So you did die," Hermione whispered. "I wasn't sure. I didn't want to believe it." Ron found something interesting in the arm of the chair and was silent.

Harry sighed. "Look, I will explain it to you later, okay? Long story short I did. I let him kill me and take out that disgusting Horcrux. Dumbledore explained everything to me. It made sense, but I wasn't angry. I'm not sure how, but I wasn't. It really felt like my whole life was meant for this, and I was going to do it." He downed a glass of butterbeer, wishing it was something stronger. "And I had a choice to come back and finish it...so I did."

Hermione refrained herself from letting the tears escape her eyes. None of them spoke for a time until the sound of the portrait turned their heads. Harry expected Ginny and Madame Pomfrey, but he did not prepare for Professor McGonagall and Kingsley to arrive in the common room.

"Eat up, Potter!" Pomfrey ordered. "I heard the stories of you three wandering around Britain without food in your stomachs, no thank you! Eat at least three to balance your blood."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Yes, Mrs. Weasley."

Ron snorted.

"Feeling your normal self already," remarked McGonagal with a small grimace before sitting a few spaces from Harry on the couch. "Yet, truly Potter, it is a comfort to know you are still with us. Yesterday was a nightmare we hope to forget one day, and we thank you and your friends for all you have done."

Harry was quiet for a moment while he allowed Pomfrey to force the potions down his throat. The pain went away quickly at last, but he had a pain in his chest that could not be fixed with an elixir. It was definitely disappointment."Why didn't you let me help at all today? I can make sure Hogwarts is restored and tell the Ministry what really happened!"

"Certainly not!" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed.

McGonagall closed her eyes, "Poppy, not now." The old woman stared at her wrinkled hands on her lap with deep concentration, as if she were thinking of the right words to say. Harry hung onto her muteness as hungry as he was minutes before. What reason could she possibly have?

"I would like to speak to Harry, Minerva," Kingsley said, breaking the pause. "He should really hear what I have to say about what will be done." Harry turned to the Order member behind McGonagall and felt his muscles tense up. He had hoped that Kingsley would be the person disagreeing with the Professor. "Harry, you are a strong young man. I would be honored to have you in the Auror Department when you are ready and able. All of you have risked your lives and we honor that, but I must ask that you enjoy this time now. Let us build back what has been lost. It is what all of them would have wanted."

"Look," said Harry, feeling a lick of anger rising in his voice."I understand why you didn't want me involved beforehand, but I just found out a day ago that my sole purpose in life was to die. I did it! And as much as I wanted to stay with my family and everyone I had lost, I came back to help. You need to let me!" Harry could feel his friends shrink in their skins, yet he knew that if he asked them for support, they would look away uncomfortably at nothing. Ron was already fiddling with his empty glass as if wishing the tension would disappear.

McGonagall inhaled loudly, "Potter, I cannot tell you how sorry we are for that. Dumbledore in his portrait told me everything this morning. All of it. He had no right to keep that to himself!"Her rage was palpable and Harry had to look away before his tears became more apparent. "I cannot begin to tell you how it made me feel, or how you felt. But please, Potter, your life is not over! Go out and live. Work through what has happened these past few years and when you are ready, Kingsley will work with you to join his department."

Harry opened his mouth, but Ginny interrupted him. "Listen to her Harry. We all need to rest. I need to know your safe, that my family is going to be fine." He felt her touch his shoulder gently and he shut his eyes. "I need you to be there for us when we bury my brother."

Harry tore her hand off of him in frustration. "Don't you get it? He should be alive! All of them! I came back to get rid of him for good and mend what damage my name has caused." He glared right into Ginny and Ron's eyes, but Ginny was the only one who maintained his eye contact. He could see her breathing shudder and tears roll down her face, but she did not budge.

"Potter-,"

"NO!" he exclaimed, cutting off his Professor before she could say more. "Everyone knows that I should fix this. I will not relax while people grieve and wish that their loved ones were alive. They see me still here—I cannot do it!"

He was fuming, the anger boiling in his chest as it had in Dumbledore's office after Sirius had died. They were all dead—James, Peter, Sirius, and Lupin...and his breath hitched when he realized why—him. All dead over the idea that a child was the savior of the Wizarding world. It made him sick to his stomach.

No one spoke for a moment. It made Harry angry. He wanted them to blame him and acknowledge that he needed to repair what was broken. Couldn't they see that?

Kinglsey was the first to make an attempt to break the silence as he patted the couch McGonagall sat in. "We will speak about this at another time and place, Harry, but not now." His eyes were locked onto Harry's with fierce intensity. "Heal your wounds and be with your friends, and _never_ put this blame on you. Do you hear me?"

Harry wanted to laugh. "I really cannot see how this isn't."

" _Enough!_ " Pomfrey hissed. "All of you! The school can wait—what everyone needs is some rest and peace. Our families need peace!" She turned to Harry, "And YOU! You have a family right here who knows you had nothing to do with any of this! You are _grieving._ You are trying to find answers. Give yourself some time to heal before you say such things."

Harry stifled a bout of tears the fire was attempting to expel with great difficulty. Hermione reached out and held his hand and he ripped it out of her grasp. "I need to be alone for awhile. Don't wait up." McGonagall opened her mouth to say something, but he escaped out the portrait before she could speak. He had to get away. Anywhere.

He ran down the spiral staircases, past the crying 5th years near the 2nd floor, and bolted toward the main door. As Harry glanced into the Great Hall he saw the bodies still lined in rows, and a group of fiery redheads in the corner. He couldn't stop. Before the door could fully open, Harry escaped his regrets in the castle and headed in the direction of the place he felt was the safest. The Whomping Willow.


	2. Harder Than You Think

Thank you for reading everyone! It has been YEARS since I wrote a Harry Potter story, and it feels great to be back. Please review and keep it on your favorites so you can get updates on the chapters!

…...

"Should we check on him?" Ron muttered to Hermione as she finished the last of her eggs in the Great Hall.

"I don't know," she responded sadly. "You know how he is. It would just make him angry."

"He can't just take off like that with some of the Death Eaters still out there. It doesn't feel right." Ron tapped his empty goblet on the table and stared at his empty plate. Even in his despair he was still debating if he should have seconds of hash and toast. Hermione was just as defeated. As much as she loved her best friend and knew he was hurting, there was still so much to do here. The Weasleys had lost their son, first and foremost. She could see George staring into the table appearing miserable, and Mrs. Weasley was trying her best to appear level minded. Only moments before the woman had cheerfully greeted them with warm hugs and declared that this was a new beginning for them all. If only she knew that Hermione had seen her break down outside the Hall the night before. Hermione's thoughts shifted to her parents in Australia. They had no idea what had happened over the past year, and she had a hole in her heart remembering her choice to keep them safe.

"I was thinking, Ron," She said with a stiff smile. "Now that the worst is over, say a few frightened Death Eaters, I was hoping that soon I could head to Australia and bring back my parents."

Ron smiled. "Yeah, good idea. You should probably have someone from the Ministry go with you though. That way you can reverse the charm without risking harm on their memories."

A true grin spread across her face. "Why not you, instead, Ron? If I can charm my own parents to forget that I even existed and travel to another country, I think I can revoke it."

Ron laughed as he finally made his decision to agree with a second helping of not only hash and toast, but eggs too. "Of course, how could I ever doubt your abilities?" Hermione giggled and she reached out to hold his hand. Ron truly did admire her, and he was pleased she returned the feeling. He squeezed her gently and replied, "It would be my pleasure to go with you."

Ginny could see the two of them from a distance in the Great Hall. She rolled her eyes in annoyance at the two of them and grew angry that they could just sit here while her brother was gone, and Harry was missing. Above all, her mother acted as if nothing terrible had happened at all.

"Ginny, dear, eat your meal. We are heading home today and plan on fixing up the house. Your father has already began working on it and says it should be ready by this evening!"

Irritated, Ginny folded her arms and looked away from her mother. "I am not going to leave Harry here alone. And what about Fred? Are you going to leave him here too?" She didn't need to see her mother to feel the eyes piercing her.

"Enough of that!" Mrs. Weasley hissed. "I am trying to keep this family together. ALL of us are heading home today, including you and Fred. I can only hope that Harry shows himself today so we can bring him to our home safely."

Ginny wished she could shed tears once more, but her sadness could not force anymore from her eyes. Of course she knew all what her mother had done to keep them all together. She knew how much her mother hurt. In a way, Ginny herself was grieving.

"I need to find him, Mum. I cannot leave him here."

Molly shifted in pity for her daughter and sighed. Moving closer to Ginny she replied, "Minerva says he's in the Shrieking Shack. Filch saw him run up to the Whomping Willow last night, poor thing, but with the way that tree was damaged, it was easy to do. Go to him, if you must, but be gentle on him. He does not know how to think right now."

Ginny could have kissed her mother. She looked at Ron and Hermione, but instantly thought against asking them to come with her. They were still holding hands and smiling to each other, completely oblivious to the world around them.

…...

Harry stirred from sleep and remembered immediately where he was. He could see the sun through the broken windows of the shack and the dust swirl across the floor where he laid. For once, Harry felt at peace knowing he was alone and calm. He had no regret of last night when he had grabbed every piece of furniture that he saw and threw it, broke it, and cut his hands on wood and glass. Of all the places, he could not understand why he went here, yet perhaps it was where his life changed for good. It was where his idiotic decision to not have Lupin and Sirius kill Peter Pettigrew on the spot cost them the resurrection of Voldemort himself. The destruction last night was full of regret and the obsession that plagued his mind again and again for four years. He could have lived with Sirius that Summer, learned about his family, and be able to feel as if he had a father again. It was eating him alive.

Harry sat up and glanced around at the destruction, feeling oddly relieved, and began picking at the remaining splinters in his hands. He could remember their faces plainly, and thought about that night years ago when he was thirteen. Snape, Sirius, Lupin, and that damn Pettigrew, all in one room. All killed, and the thought of all they had been through since then caused a lump in Harry's throat. He could not make up his mind on why this happened, or why that failed. Why couldn't Dumbledore just tell him what was going on? Why couldn't they just let him be in the Order? Was it all for the best after all, and it could have been worse? The questions tortured him.

The wind whistled through the glass, and Harry glanced up to see birds fly from the trees toward Hogsmeade. He supposed this was enough destruction for one day, and decided to listen to his stomach complain about food. He also wondered if he could eat in the dormitory and avoid everyone as he wasn't keen on talking about where he had been. Harry raised himself from the dusty floor but paused for a moment, thinking he had heard something through the tunnel. He grabbed his wand immediately and felt the fight or flight instinct kick in, which quickly dissipated when he heard a voice.

"Harry? Are you in there? I'm coming to get you!"

He knew it was Ginny. How she found his hideout was beyond him. The door creaked open and Harry could see her sad eyes light up at the sight of him. He remembered how beautiful she was, and undoubtedly, how angry she was at him for everything.

"Oh, Harry! We were wondering where you were." Ginny came close and wrapped her arms around him. Harry squeezed her and took in the smell of her skin, her hair, and immediately wanted to sob into her shoulders. He shifted this idea and smiled at her.

"Sorry I ran off. Just wanted to be alone, I guess. It's good to see you."

Ginny couldn't help but see how the tables were broken, and how he attempted to conceal his battered hands. "You know that it wasn't really necessary."

Harry shrugged. "Sounded good at the time. At any rate, I felt loads better. Yet, I take it you're here to bring me back to the castle?"

"Well, Mum says we are heading back home today. She wants you there, and frankly, I am not leaving Hogwarts unless you do, so."

Harry groaned inwardly and returned to shrugging his shoulders. "Look, I really don't want to bother your family. They are grieving, and you too. There was nothing I could do for Fred, and it would kill me to be in the same house with all of you."

Ginny didn't seem bothered by his statement. "Oh, I know you feel that way, so does Mum and Dad. Honestly they see Fred's death as an honor to the cause, you know? Mum wants you at our house, and she will not budge on it. We have to finish fixing the house anyway."

Harry perked up at this and remembered when the house was attacked. This was something he could finally fix. He would have to deal with the Weasley family regardless, he knew. Even George. "Fine. I will go to the Burrow. Maybe I can even help."

Ginny smiled broadly and dragged him into a fierce embrace. Once again he held her, loving every second of it. He suddenly realized he was alone in a room with a woman he loved, and it made him panic. The Weasley boys will definitely hear of this! "Hey, let's go. I am famished, and I need to make sure McGonagall is really fine about me leaving."

He didn't need to tell her twice.

…...

If Harry had been truly prepared for his arrival at Hogwarts, he would have remained imprisoned in the Shrieking Shack. He had completely forgotten about the students who remained at the school waiting to be brought home to their fearful families. Some parents would soon realize their child would not be returning home alive. It became quickly apparent as they approached the main doors of the castle, and Harry could see a first year and a sixth year weeping on the front steps, and the eldest looked straight into his eyes with intense fury.

"YOU!" Her wand was brandished from inside her robes. "He's dead because of you! Our brother is gone! How can I tell my parents that he died when you could have turned yourself in?"

Harry was stopped in his tracks, and he could not say anything. He felt his heart tug in fear and remorse, and he made no attempt to take the Elder Wand in defense.

"He did give himself over, Ruth!" Ginny shouted furiously. "Your brother defended Hogwarts, he should be treated like a hero, but do NOT blame Harry for this!"

"Oh, please! Everyone is saying HE is the hero. Like we didn't matter. How long did it take for you to turn yourself in, hero? Did you wait until our brother died?"

Ginny continued to puff up in defense, but Harry responded to confess. "I am not a hero. Trust me, I would rather be dead than all of these people. I lost three people close to me in a matter of hours. I would give my life to have them back. Tell your parents the truth, your brother was a hero, and died a hero."

Ruth lowered her wand but her anger did not leave her body. He knew it was not enough what he said. "Try telling that to my parents. He was their only boy. He was going to be something great. Get out of my sight before I curse you! GO!"

Harry replayed the girl's voice repeatedly in his head as he sat at the table. As if Ruth's words weren't enough, he was getting death stares from the Slytherin table. Their parents were now dead, imprisoned, or on the run, and it was because of him.

"We're leaving now, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley's voice from far away. He blinked. "Due to what Ginny had said happened with that girl, and threats from the Slytherins, it's best we leave now. Do you have your things?" Harry nodded and put his backpack on. He figured it was for the best since he had also rid the Wizarding world of the Elder Wand after he returned. It would only have brought more destruction. He was, quite literally, defenseless.

The Weasleys gathered together and Hermione took Harry's hand. "We are taking brooms to the Burrow. Aren't you excited?"

Harry tried to smile, "Of course, it's been forever." He didn't want to remind her that the last time he truly flew they lost Mad Eye Moody and his beloved owl, Hedwig.

Harry took the Firebolt from Kingsley, and gave him a confused look. Kingsley shrugged. "Donated for this purpose by the Ministry. They wanted to make sure we could be there as soon as possible."

"Okay everyone!" Mrs. Weasley chirped. "Let's go outside and head home!"

Kingsley pushed Harry forward to the middle of the group. "You remain on the inside. We can't have you vulnerable without a wand."

As much as Harry knew this made sense, he felt his anxiety pulse through his heart as they made their way to the grass. It was like leaving the Dursleys all over again. He was sure he was sweating.

"Hey, mate, you feeling okay?" Ron asked, nudging him with his arm. Harry could only nod. This was the only way they could leave, he had to do it. He did his best to ignore seeing Voldemort's scarlet eyes gleaming into his, and the sight of poor Hedwig falling to the ground. It made him so tense he was surprised his bones didn't snap.

"All right, everyone, I will take the rear," said Kingsley. "We do not expect an attack, but this is for prevention purposes. Please stay in your designated places and make sure you stay aware of your surroundings. Should only take us over an hour on these models. Everyone ready?"

Harry did not have a choice. The group lifted to the air, and the only thing keeping him on the broom was knowing it would soon be over.

…...

Arthur Weasley was a man of his words. With some assistance from Harry and the group, the home was finished down to the last nail before evening. Mrs. Weasely couldn't be happier, and routine at last came back to the family. Fred was arriving the next day, and the funeral would follow in the evening. It was enough to make Harry want to hide in the attic with the ghoul. Andromeda, Tonks' mother, would take her and Lupin from Hogwarts and have a private ceremony at the cemetery, and invited the Weasley family. All Harry wanted to do was hide, but he pretended to be strong for his friends.

"Mrs. Weasley," he said. "I can help pay for the funeral. I really want to make sure Fred gets the best!"

Molly teared faintly and patted his cheek. "No, darling. McGonagall is assisting all the families hurt from the attack. Hogwarts has a great deal of funds designated for this, and we cannot accept a single penny from you, darling. It wouldn't feel right."

Harry felt dejected. He wanted to scream at everyone that he felt truly responsible, and that all of his money should be used to make it all right. Yet, as true as he was feeling, Harry could only nod in defeat. He really wished he could say what he meant.

As the weeks went by, Harry felt as though he spent more time out of his body than in. He could barely remember Fred's funeral, let alone Lupin and Tonks'. He had attempted to give Andromeda funds to support baby Teddy, but she politely refused. "Don't worry, Harry. Between the two of them, Remus and Nymphadora had a healthy amount to help me support little Teddy. I couldn't take anything from you. We are alive because of you, I truly believe that."

Harry was simply more confused than ever. What was he supposed to do? What was his goal now that Voldemort was gone? For the first time since the war ended, Harry broke down into painful sobs when he left her home. He glanced up at the clouds before he Disappearated to the Burrow, and hated them for painting a peaceful picture.

…...

"You've been crying," Hermione said simply as Harry sat at the table when he returned. She was the only one downstairs, finally taking down the decorations from the funeral weeks ago.

"It doesn't matter," he replied. "It will be fine."

She snorted. "Heard that many times before from you. What did Andromeda say?"

"Apparently no one wants me to help them financially. I even tried to get Kingsley to open up an anonymous grant for the families involved and he refused. Said it was a Ministry issue. Nobody seems to understand that I need this."

Hermione could sense that he needed more attention, so she stopped what she was doing and sat across from him at the table. "Harry, I have known you for so long, and I know that you take things personally. The Ministry needs to make right what they have failed at. That is why Kingsley refused you. As far as Andromeda and the Weasleys, they do not believe this is your fault. Even George knows, Harry. As much as he ignores the family, he knows it was all because of Voldemort that we are missing our loved ones. No one wants you to pay for the fault of a madman, or the failure of the Ministry. You have to see it that way."

Harry could feel the tears coming back, but he held them in as much as he was able. He knew she was right. Yet he was so conflicted the feeling would not leave him. "I just want to make it better. I wasn't supposed to live—they were."

Hermione could see he was hurting. Just as he was as they traveled desperately the past year to find a shred of hope that they could win the war. Her instinct immediately went to comfort him, and she took his hands in hers. "We have been through a lot, Harry. We won, and I know you are trying to find your place. Listen to them. They want you to heal, take care of yourself, and find your role in life now after Voldemort. Your purpose in life was not just killing him, I can assure you of that."

He was brainstorming what she meant, and he knew that perhaps, if he tried, he would be able to make strides to move on. "Maybe I can fix up Grimmuald Place?"

"Of course! I overhead Kingsley saying they were going to make sure it was safe. This could be your chance to make it yours!"

She was always right. Damnit. Harry smiled and agreed. He would speak with Kingsley as soon as he could write the letter. Or... Harry stood up and gave Hermione a smirk. "I have a better idea. KREACHER!"

 _SNAP_ \- The elf popped into the kitchen and promptly grasped Harry's leg. "Oh, Master Potter! Kreacher was so worried and hasn't heard from anyone in days! What can Kreacher do for you?"

Harry attempted to pry the inconsolable elf off his leg as he sat back down at the table. Hermione gave him a serious look. "Okay Kreacher, I have a question for you."

"Anything, Master Potter!"

"The house, has anyone been snooping around that you have noticed? Death Eaters or Ministry folk? I need to make sure it is safe to return to."

The House Elf snapped to attention. "Oh it is _very_ safe! Kreacher closed the entry points and now no one can come in without Kreacher knowing! Haven't seen anyone at all, sir! Kreacher wants Master Harry to return!"

Harry gave Hermione a grin, which she did not return. His face fell. "You can't go back without the Minstry making sure, Harry. The Weasleys, I know, will not allow it."

Harry rolled his eyes. "The Ministry has been nothing but trouble for us. I can trust Kreacher better than a bunch of traitorous government employees."

"It doesn't matter, don't you see that?" Hermione's voice was raising dangerously. "There are still some of them out there, and we have had enough of grief for one day. You cannot go back until I know for sure you will be okay!"

A creak on the floorboards made them jump. "Go where?" It was Mr and Mrs. Weasley. Both had a frown on their pale faces. Harry could see they had been weeping. "What is Kreacher doing here?"

Kreacher hopped onto a chair and proudly made the announcement before Harry could shut his mouth. "The home is safe for Master Harry to return! Kreacher made sure of it!"

Harry managed a weak smile but it wasn't enough to take the shock off their faces. "Over my dead body!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "Kingsley has not given the approval for this, and I certainly will not allow you, Harry, to return there. Merlin knows what scoundrel could be lurking in the rooms of that place."

Harry did not want to push the idea any further. He could see his House Elf sag in his sadness. "Kreacher, thank you for keeping the house safe. I will be there when I can. Just head back home and keep doing a great job."

Kreacher perked up and bowed. "Of course, Master." With a snap he was gone.

Harry heard the loudest silence and gave Hermione an awkward glance. She gazed away and focused on a very interesting crumb of bread on the table.

Mrs. Weasley approached the table with her finger pointed threateningly, and he couldn't help but feel anger as she began to screech at him. "You are not going to that house! I am not going to risk anymore lives in this family! You are going to stay here until the Ministry makes sure that home is livable, and no planning things without us knowing!"

"What does it matter?" he yelled. "I can do what I want to do for once in my life! I'm not a child anymore, and I am definitely not one of yours!"

If the slap had come slower, Harry wouldn't have tried to stop her. However, Mrs. Weasley's hand hit his face with exquisite speed, and he silenced himself at once. With his eyes tearing, he saw her with tears in her own, but she could not utter a sound. It was Mr. Weasley who spoke for her. "Go upstairs, Harry. Dinner will be ready in an hour."

Harry found himself moving without wanting to. He bolted up the stairs and slammed the door shut, fuming. Harry picked up his backpack and threw it against the wall, tears falling from his face. He was scared of his own rage, hitting his own legs in frustration on the bed, screaming, and wanting to be a million miles away. When he calmed Harry noticed that he wasn't alone. Ron sat on the chair near his bed reading a Chudley Cannons magazine, gazing at Harry alarmingly. "Shit," Harry muttered. "Didn't know you were there."

"Um, are you okay? You don't look okay."

Harry became drowned in fatigue and nodded. "I do now. Sorry about interrupting your magazine. I am going to take a nap."

Ron stood up anxiously and headed towards the door. "Right, well, I was wanting a snack before dinner anyway. I'll be downstairs." He quickly left and shut the door and Harry could only sigh. Way to act like a nutter.


	3. The Howler

Sorry it's a short one today, but I had to leave it on a cliffy

As odd as it were, Harry had no nightmare's about the war. Each day that came and went gave him no fear to shut his eyes, but he did dread the insomnia. Hours after Ron would fall asleep, snoring loudly, Harry rolled his eyes at the ceiling and stuffed his face in the pillow. It was useless. His body was fortunate to get four hours in, and Harry twisted his mouth in surprise looking at himself in the mirror—couldn't even tell! One less thing to be bothered about.

There existed some eggshells after Harry's dispute with Mrs. Weasley, but it faded after a few days when she became her usual self, bustling around the house and fretting about how dirty the kitchen had become. "Oh, Harry, dear!" she exclaimed handing him the Daily Prophet. "Look at this work Kingsley and his men did!"

Harry unfolded the paper and saw in bold lettering "New Minister of Magic Unleashes Revenge on Remaining Death Eaters!" It was over in a matter of weeks. All of them were caught-he counted the names.

"Isn't this great, love?"

He attempted to smile, "Of course, Mrs. Weasely."

Arthur clapped his shoulders and gave a cheerful wink to the news, and Harry realized he just couldn't return the appreciation. "Naturally, Harry, we _are_ still on alert down the road for disgruntled lineages coming forth and wanting revenge on you or the Ministry. Kingsley is focusing on your home this week to make sure it is surely sealed to prevent this."

This news increased his curiosity about his future with Grimmauld Place and he wanted to try and find more about Sirius' family in it walls. Harry handed the paper back to the Weasley's and headed upstairs to Ron and Hermione, wondering if they also knew about the siege on the remaining followers. In any case, he didn't want it to become dinner conversation.

Their voices were in the girls' room, and Harry could hear Ginny's laugh through the oak door. It made his body tingle.

"Oy, Harry," Ron called out as he entered miserably. "I don't get this stupid riddle they're asking me, and apparently it's some huge joke."

"I could never guess those, haven't we learned that years ago?" He couldn't resist a grin. Ginny giggled profusely and Hermione followed suit, gazing at them like drunken idiots. "Well, go on then."

The girls settled down for once. "Okay, so, how do you turn a pearl into a pear?"

Harry's heart slumped. Naturally, he felt instantly dimwitted. "I dunno, some first year charm spell that I have already forgotten?"

The girls shrieked in laughter. Ron gave him an annoying look. "Already tried that one, mate. It's useless."

"Well, the hell I know then!"

"Oh come on, Harry!" Ginny pleaded. "George already guessed it and he actually had a laugh. He called it the most stupid riddle he has ever heard."

"Well, I would have to agree with him, then."

"Oh, you're no fun at all you two," Hermione sighed.

Ron made a dramatic movement with his head and glared at the girls, "Well, it's not fair to do these dumb brain jokes on my brain. Gets it all confused!"

Harry snorted and covered his mouth. "Is that a confession?"

"It's a demand to have the answer so I don't have to think about it."

Hermione opened her mouth but Mr. Weasley's voice echoed from downstairs instead. He sounded alarmed. "Harry, get down here!"

Harry immediately seized the handle of the door and scurried down the steps to where the Weasley's were. Arthur was wrestling a red envelope from his wife, who was attempting to burn it in the fireplace. "What is it?" Harry didn't need to ask again. He realized at once when he saw Molly's face—Howler.

"Bloody hell!" whispered a voice behind him. Ron and his friends had followed.

Harry sighed and moved to take the envelope from Arthur's hand, glancing at what was written on the front:

Harry Potter: Murderer

From the Foster and Lansfield Family

It wasn't the voice that made Harry's skin crawl, it was the message the letter contained, and it was painfully obvious.

"WE DON'T KNOW HOW TO SEND A SINGLE NOTE OF THANKS TO YOU, POTTER! OUR DAUGHTER AND SON ARE DEAD! YOU NEED TO RETHINK YOUR MEANS ON LIVING BECAUSE OUR CHILDREN WERE NOT GIVEN THE CHOICE! HERO OF THE WIZARDING WORLD? WE THINK NOT! KILLER, USELESS WELP OF A CHILD! OUR CHILDREN ARE FOREVER GONE WHILE YOUR STORY WILL LIVE FOR A LIFETIME. WE WILL NOT DARE TO THINK OF IT. ALL WE CAN THINK OF IS THEIR TWISTED BODIES LYING ON THE GROUNDS OF HOGWARTS. MUTILATED. YOU-KNOW-WHO GONE OR NOT, WE WILL NEVER THANK YOU. WE HOPE YOU ROT IN THE DARKEST PITS OF HELL."

And with that, the terrible note shriveled and smoldered on the floor. If anyone said anything, Harry was not able to hear them. He felt a violent chill of fear course through his body, and his heartbeat in his head. Extremely loud and overwhelming—it moved him to madness. Harry bolted to the door to escape the pounding, wrestling away from Mr. Weasley, who could have been a monster of Hell for all Harry knew. "NO!" he screamed.

"DON'T, HARRY!"

If he had harmed him, Harry did could not see. After a loud pop, all he left the Burrow, with the burning letter still searing pain in his ears.

…...

They days were blurring together in dreadful pieces. Kreacher, tending to his master with true diligence, attempted his best to do what was prudent. He had defended the home against the pesky Weasley family over the course of the week. They rang daily, often more than once, and his master continued to shake his head and retreat to the study. As an elf torn for each side, he relayed brief updates to the Weasley's, yet forbade them to enter the residence.

"Kreacher is taking care of Master Harry just fine! Master Potter wishes to be alone, terribly morose as he is."

Ron had not seen his father this frustrated in some time. "Kreacher, listen to us! He should not be alone! We need to make sure he is safe!"

The elf remained pained, but firm. "Kreacher keeps Master safe and with company. No threats here!" And slam after slam, the door went into their faces. Harry would watch them stand argue with one another, livid with the idea of not being able to enter his home. It saddened him greatly, yet he was humiliated by his behavior. Savior of the world and he could not keep a level head. The dam had burst and there was nothing else left to hold its weight. The home eerily reflected his depressive state, but there was always Kreacher trying his best to lift the spirits of his master. Harry, on more than one occasion, received his meals with theatrics. Dinner came in with Kreacher on a tricycle. His eggs had humorous faces drizzled in sauce. Harry smiled pleasantly at the elf, who really was special, indeed.

At dinner Harry picked at the meat and squash that Kreacher made resemble a birds nest this time. His elf seemed out of ideas. Harry watched him pour Firewhiskey into a goblet and made eye contact with the nervous creature. He sighed. "You're not killing me by making sure I have this all the time, you know?"

"Oh, I wouldn't ever do such a thing!" he squealed.

"Exactly! So stop looking at me like that." It sounded harsher than he felt, but Kreacher promptly finished the glass and bolted out of the study and whimpering about drapes. Harry wished he could go after the poor house elf but he had no energy. With the days stretching he was becoming more angry and repeatedly thought about the Black family in particular. Bypassing his meal, Harry carried the container of Firewhiskey with him to the room where the Black family lineage stretched across the wall. He found where Sirius' name was burned off the wall and touched it softly, remembering the man's face when he was about to hand himself over to Voldemort. Harry whispered, "...like falling asleep." he muttered. The drink was burning his chest and throat, yet the warmness prevented him from going over the edge. That was until he found Bellatrix Lestrange's portrait, sneering and laughing in his face. " Baby Potter!" she had taunted. "I killed Sirius Black!" It was as clear as if the woman was in the room. Harry could almost feel her cruel hands caress his face in mocked compassion. It made him shudder in fury, and a peculiar calm came across his face.

"KREACHER!"

A tiny pop echoed in the room. "Yes, sir!"

Harry's eyes never left the woman's eyes on the wall. "Go get me that ax from the cellar."


	4. Mood Swings

**I finally added another chapter! Sorry, life got in the way, then got re-inspired.**

Ginny sighed slowly as she approached the dark door of Grimmuald Place for the third time. It was after 11pm, and she had left her home disagreeing with her parents about the whole 'showing up at your boyfriend's place late at night' discussion. Arthur explained that Harry simply needed his personal time, while Molly wished to seize him and return Harry to her home. In secret, her mother's wish trumped her father's, and Ginny managed to sneak out of the home under Arthur's nose.

Mrs. Weasley's first choice would have been Hermione, yet as she and Ron were in Australia retrieving her parents, Mrs. Weasley was left with only one viable option – her daughter – and hoped that she wouldn't regret the decision nine months later.

The door appeared far more foreboding than she remembered, yet it could have simply been the moonlight. Ginny knocked and heard it resound through the streets, causing a jolt in her stance. Couldn't she just kidnap him and hurry home? The pause stretched into silence, and Ginny felt her anxiety fade away—it was another rejection.

However- a sudden tug of the door forced the wood to creak and Ginny peered down into the familiar round eyes of the house elf.

"Y..yes, miss?"

"Kreacher, sorry to intrude so late, but I need to see him. I must come inside."

The elf lowered his eyes briefly, then glanced behind him hesitantly. She was surprised by his response. "Please, miss, do come in. Master Potter has neglected his daily command of refusing house guests. I was hoping you would take advantage of this."

Ginny could not believe what she had heard. Permitted to enter? She had to take a moment to see if the elf was fabricating the whole thing, but he quietly moved aside and gestured her to enter. "Thank you, miss," the elf continued. " I have attempted all I could to release Master Potter of his misery, but I have failed."

After following him to the staircase, Ginny hesitated. "Tell me, Kreacher, what has he been doing?"

Kreacher recanted what he knew. "Master Potter spends all hours of the day in the study, or sleeping in his bed. Master Potter claims he is perfectly fine, as he seems, but truly lost he is. Has Kreacher make him dizzy drinks and leave him be. Kreacher believes that Master is attempting to rectify what the Dark Magic has done to others, but it has become enslaving."

The poor elf fell to her feet and pleaded, "Please! Tell Master Potter that it wasn't him! It was those dreadful wizards! Kreacher is disgraced to have called them masters!"

Ginny held him tight and comforted the poor thing. "Yes, Kreacher. I will. Stay down here and I will talk to him." The elf ran immediately to the kitchen and Ginny sighed again as she was left alone in the foyer. She realized the elf had not told her where he was, so Ginny began opening doors casually in hopes to see him glance up at her.

The halls were eerily dead of sound, but there did exist a echo of noise- a thud followed by an odd scraping sound. Ginny let it lead her to the farthest room on the right, which she remembered held the family tree of the Black family. The scraping continued as she neared the door, partially open. She could at last see his form, which faced away from her, and around his body was an accumulation of debris. Wood, dust, paneling, and even brick from the fireplace, which had light dwindling from it. Harry sat on the floor against a piece of furniture, left intact, and was repetitively grinding the tip of an ax against the wooden floorboards. The wall had been bashed to pieces. Nothing left of the family tree could be seen, and Ginny knew all too well that the outrage was directed at Bellatrix Lestrange.

The door creaked and Ginny froze at once. She saw Harry stop for a brief moment, then continue his mindless activity. She took this as an invitation, and with uneasiness, approached the sofa in which he used to support himself. As she walked closer, she caught a glimpse of what Kreacher meant by 'dizzy drink' and her face fell.

" I know the answer now."

Ginny almost gasped in fright. She did not expect him to speak to her. "W..what?"

His voice was calm and soft. "The riddle—I know the answer."

"Oh," she choked. "Okay...tell me."

"Hermione was right...it really was a stupid one. You take the 'L' out of pearl." Harry turned to look at her and the ax fell to the floor.

Ginny shifted her eyes back to his and smiled, "Naturally. How did you get it?"

Harry shrugged and stretched his back, answering matter of factly, "You know, I've had a lot of time to think lately."

She immediately found herself short with temper, but she forced herself to remain mild. His behavior was still very irregular. "Are you done thinking?" Ginny feared he would lash out at the response, but he instead had a wry smile cross his face. He was proud of what he had accomplished in the room.

"I have found my time here both functional and boring. As you see, I have been doing some remodeling, and Kreacher has been a great help."

"He says you've been researching how to learn from your mistakes, and drinking too much."

At this moment, Ginny at last saw his demeanor change. She was hitting nerves. Harry stood up and was compelled to grab the sofa for support. He was obviously still drunk. "Look, Ginny, I have been working extremely hard to find out how I could have done things differently, and above all, what I can do to clean this damn mess up left by Voldemort, and do you know what I have done?"

Ginny would not let him know she was scared of him. Never had she seen him so erratic. "What did you do, Harry?"

"I have discovered the list of families who have lost loved ones during the war, and will personally visit them to see what I can do to alleviate their pain. I have also researched all of the family documents and spellbooks to determine counterspells that could be useful for the Ministry's Auror program!" he pointed a desperate finger at the broken wall. "And this? It is the end of disgrace for Sirius and I. Lestrange will never show her sneering face at me again. It's over!"

Ginny quickly responded to his rant, "Yes, Harry, it's over. You have done wonderful things both at Hogwarts, and here. We can go to the Ministry with your findings, and then come home where we are all waiting for you."

He appeared to think over what she had said, yet his body language contradicted his intentions. Ginny could see desperation in his eyes—panic- and she was not able to see where it was coming from. "Harry, it's okay."

"IT'S NEVER GOING TO BE OKAY!"

"Yes, it will." Her calm voice did nothing to ease his behavior."

"No! I keep seeing the dead in my sleep. I wake up fending off invisible inferi, thinking they are crawling all over me and dragging me into the water. I see my Mother but I can't get to her. I hear that damn Howler and feel crushed knowing that now, with what I have researched, I could have done something."

Ginny would not let him speak anymore of death. She silenced him with a loud shout of "STOP IT!" He quieted but fury still burned in his eyes. "Harry, enough! Seriously, this is enough! Your life is more than just a stupid prophecy. You were born to become a great wizard, to help others, and be with me! I cannot heal you, but I need you to be there for me to heal! I am still here!"

She could see Harry slowly back away, but his eyes remained angry. At least he was quiet...not yelling his head off about what if's, which always angered her. She had her own what if's!

To ease the weight of the silence Harry shifted his body toward the dying fire and watched the embers flicker like his pulse. He felt regret, naturally, yet he could not shake the awful power of the darkness he endured on a daily basis. It consumed him. "Look, Ginny," he whispered. "Listen to me when I say this."

Ginny did not like the sound of it.

"I have been selfish, I understand that. I am not there and you need me. I am spending effort and time on something that is continuing to make me miserable. I am not a good boyfriend."

"I didn't say that."

Harry turned his head to look at her. "I am saying it."

Ginny was confused and wary. His mood swings were forcing her to keep the emotions in check, yet she truly was not liking the direction in which it was going.

The pause was unsettling. Harry groaned and managed to sit steadily on the edge of an end table near the fireplace. He appeared tired, defeated, but oddly calm. "Ginny, you are truly the most beautiful girl in the world. I care for you. I have done so for the longest time. I always wanted the best for you."

"You're not my brother, Harry." her voice came out higher than she wanted. "You're more than that."

Harry continued on as if she didn't speak. "I want the best for you. I say this because I have something I need to finish with the Ministry, and when I do, I am going as far away from here as I can. No more memories to be reminded of, and no magic. Just me, and that's it."

If Harry had a brick, he had hit her with it. Ginny felt her insides begin to implode, and her eyes became rimmed with blurring tears. What angered her the most was his calmness. How dare he just sit there? The room was left with her sounds of heavy breathing, and Harry shrank away. She wanted to throw things at him, scream—yet all she did was watch the love of her life slump in misery, eyes determined with what he had said.

Ginny was not sure how she mustered the voice. "You can't. We need you with us, and I do not want you alone out there, brokenhearted and without support. You can't do that to any of us."

"I have it all planned out and set in place. I am doing this with the idea that I can help myself heal. I will never be able to do it if I stay."

"THIS ISN'T WHAT WE MEANT!" she found herself screaming. "We gave you time to work out your grief. I cannot lose you to what you think is a chance to start over."

Harry replied in the same manner, "I KNOW IT'S NOT WHAT YOU MEANT! Did you really think that I planned on this in the beginning?" He stood up clumsily and forced her to back up towards the door. "All I wanted was to move on here, but there is no possible way!"

Ginny braced herself into the doorway and refused to move. He wasn't going anywhere! "You need to think straight, Harry! Sit with us and we can go over your options."

Harry laughed and gestured to the air. "Oh, to see how to get these witches and wizards to magically treat me like a normal person? To be left alone while walking in the streets? I need to be a nobody, Ginny. A flat out nobody who does what everyone else does. I am NOT a murderer!"

Ginny could see him instantly deflate—as if he had popped himself during his rant. It seemed like a better time than any. "Harry, those families - you know, who sent the Howler?"

Harry held himself as if shivering but said nothing.

"Kingsley and my Dad visited them yesterday morning. At first they were angry. Speaking about the usual blame—but Kingsley explained it all, you know, Harry? And they had actually stepped down from their blame."

"I don't believe it." he muttered.

"Harry, it's true! They were doing what every person does when a tragedy takes an innocent life. They were _grieving_. It is a family blaming the rain for the mud, but not appreciating it watering their flowers. You did the same thing with us after Cedric."

"This has nothing to do with him!"

"You're not listening! When Cedric died you blamed yourself, became angry at all of us for 'hiding' information from you because You-Know-Who was free to harm you. You were not angry at us, I know that. I saw grief, and I saw you hurt by the very people who were supposed to care for you—like Dumbledore."

A stifled sob halted her rant, and Harry remained constricted with his arms around himself, appearing cold, and lumbered to the sofa chair. "It got Sirius killed, Gin...these feelings."

"No it didn't"

"No, I see it! I was so angry, betrayed, and frightened that I had to act. I couldn't fight the gnawing anxiety and it sent me into desperation. I had to suffer the consequences of that—a life I was going to have like taunting piece of meat. And it was all lost. This is why I need to leave. I have to be somewhere new...where I do not have memories, good or bad. If I only knew a powerful memory spell I would have just done that."

Ginny remained where she was standing. Harry had muted tears building in his eyes, yet he wiped them away before they fell. She did not know how she felt at his remark—he appeared to be looking forward to the future, but a desperate man may try that memory spell he could not perform just to see if he could be successful.

"Harry, please. I am growing weary of worrying for you. I just need you home with us. I want to see you everyday, and know that you hadn't died. I am grieving for the 'old' you. Can you just _please_ stay with us so we can go through all of this together? All I need is for us all to talk."

Harry remained closemouthed, and she could feel her heart sag. His breath was tight and ragged as he worked off his anger, and she held on to the silence for any response he could offer her. She almost didn't hear him whisper to her. "Fine. Just one day."

Unsure if it was the alleviation of her stress, or just simply because he she was in love, Ginny moved toward him and pressed her lips against his. Harry recoiled in surprise, but she wasn't going to allow him to move away. She continued to kiss him, and he pulled her towards himself on the sofa and returned her passion. Ginny felt on top of the world. Her childhood dream was finally happening, and she wasn't even dismayed by the fact she smelled firewhiskey on his breath. It was only the two of them, fully in lust, and she found herself sitting completely on his lap.

Harry had no idea what had gotten over him, but he truly did miss the smell of her hair, and the sensation of the strands ticking his face. She placed herself over him, and immediately his passion for her escalated. He could imagine the look on Ron's face if he knew that his best friend was snogging his sister, and that made him want to do it more. He moved to her neck and her gasp forced him to pursue every inch. He stroked the sides of her waist, her back, and rolled his fingers through her fiery hair. He loved her so much, he truly did. Ginny was alive and well, sitting on his body, and it felt marvelous. Harry panted softly near her ear, and he could see that she was allowing herself to become more daring. Ginny took his hand and had his fingers graze her breast, and he used all his effort not to sigh in pleasure. As much as he was enjoying this, he feared how far this would take them. She displayed no desire in stopping, and it was definitely apparent when she moaned in his ear and placed her hand over his over very excited erection.

"Ginny!' he gasped, "we have to stop. I'm sorry."

Ginny pulled away and he could see her concerned face, slightly disappointed, and searching for answers. "It's okay, Harry. It's all okay."

He shook his head, fighting the angry pull of his excitement to listen to her. "Ginny, first of all, I am still very drunk. Second of all, I want us to be ready."

"But you're coming home!" she laughed. "I'm so happy!"

A dark side in Harry's mind contradicted what she had said, but he ignored it. "You're beautiful and amazing, Ginny, but trust me, we are not ready."

Ginny appeared to think a moment, then smiled. She crawled off of him and Harry was left with an embarrassing pressure in his groin. "All right then, Harry. We will wait. Could you imagine if my brother found out?"

"Exactly."

Harry stood and shuffled through the debris of the torn wall, and avoided her eye contact. He knew she was expecting him to follow her to the door and leave to the Brurrow. He just wasn't ready.

"We can have Kreacher make an overnight bag and we can go back home together. I'd imagine they are waiting for us."

Harry's anxiety caused a sinking feeling. "Look, Gin, I am in no condition to show myself in front of your mother. I will go tomorrow before noon."

He could see her battling what to say next, and to prove his capabilities, he purposefully swayed as he turned toward the door. He definitely had her in a corner.

"Right...she would not approve of that, you know? Especially when you live alone."

"I have Kreacher."

"You're alone, Harry. Kreacher doesn't count."

He shrugged his shoulders and attempted to smile. Ginny returned it and made headway to the staircase. He watched her go quietly.

"Do you want me to help you into bed?" she asked, with a slight hint of mischievousness.

Harry rolled his eyes and responded. "No I think I got it."

Ginny laughed and headed down the stairs, and he could hear his house elf wishing her a good night. The loneliness returned to him at once, settling deep inside of his chest. How could he tell her?


	5. Hide and Seek

**Thank you everyone for reading! sorry this chapter is short. Keep reviewing and stay tuned for the next chapter!**

Ginny's heart was beginning to sink. As the clock pushed past 12:00 the pit of her stomach became twisted with anger and disappointment. He wasn't going to come...he had lied to her. The realization of her gullibility was extremely palpable with the other Weasely's, who glanced at one another as if to see who was going to be the one to confirm what Ginny was feeling. All she could hear was the beating in her ears. How dare he? Why was she so stupid to think that he was going to do what he said? Remembering every detail, she could possibly see where he could have lied...why had she fallen for it? Simply said, she had loved him. And that was that.

"I'm so stupid!" she whimpered, no sure if it was of rage or sadness.

Mrs. Weasley whisked to her side and placed her hand on hers. "Ginny, darling, it's only half past noon. Perhaps he has fallen behind?"

"No, he didn't! I should have seen he was lying."

Ginny had told them all about what Harry had planned to do, and what the purpose of the meeting had to be. And Harry had no intention of being there for it. She almost wished he would never arrive...he may just not have a neck left.

Harry Potter shuffled through the crowds of the Ministry unnoticed due to his charmed complexion. No one could see it was the savior of the Wizarding world under their own noses. Say for Kingsley, who knew to expect the young man precisely at a quarter past eleven. Harry was more determined than ever to meet with the Minister, mainly because he had to make sure he was in and out before the Weasley family bombarded the Ministry's walls. His guilt was enormous. Harry had left the teary eyed elf home alone with a letter for the family explaining his decision—knowing full well it was never going to be enough. Perhaps if they loathed him enough, they would not even bother to search for him.

"Oh, Master, no!" squealed Kreacher. "Don't leave me! I'll be a good, good elf!"

Harry sighed deeply as he attempted to comfort the creature. Obviously not making any progress. "Kreacher, please do this for me. They will come here, and you just hand them this letter. Take care of the home, I trust you. I will call for you when I can to let you know I am safe."

"Yes, Master! But WHYYYYYY?"

Harry rolled his eyes and moaned inwardly. This was worse than dealing with Ginny. He could not even think of what to say to his house elf, he was over all of it. "Kreacher, do what I ask. I will check in with you. And make sure they get this!"

Harry truly hoped that the elf would have finished his outburst before the Weasley's arrived, but he doubted. He managed to shove himself into a crammed lift and select the floor where the Minister sat awaiting him. Someone smelled of eggs and potatoes, and he ignored the homesickness of 's cooking. He quickly bolted from the door when he reached his floor, bumped into a woman, and turned to see behind her no other than Percy Weasely...reading a manual about some magically operated Muggle appliance. Following in his father's footsteps. Harry thanked his disguise and quickly headed down the long hallway to the Minster.

Harry did not have to wait long with the eagle-faced receptionist after he gave her the name of "Anderson" wishing to see the Minster. Even so, the Minister had been waiting for this 'Anderson' to arrive all morning. The door trembled as if opened, and Harry turned to see the weary eyes of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Ah, Mr. Anderson—please come in."

Harry swiftly nodded and followed suit, hoping to make this appear as unsuspicious as possible. The moment they were through and in the study, Harry dropped the ruse.

"So, Mr. Potter, as I understand you have found some interesting information at Grimmauld Place."

Harry pulled the documents out of his bag—a hefty stack- and placed them on the Minister's desk. "All of this is based off of the Dark Arts Voldemort based his research on. Horcruxes, regenerating the soul and body, all of it."

Kinglsey opened the file and browsed the documents—he was obviously intrigued. "Is it clear?"

Harry sighed. "No, a lot of it is missing. These are mainly origins, bits that we were missing through Dumbledore...none of it is a clear picture from beginning to end, but I tried my best to make sure I sent them with most of the information."

Kinglsey browsed through hesitantly. This was enough to document and extend the sentences of the remaining Death Eaters, but it was crossing lines.

"You understand why I am leery to accept this, don't you, Potter?"

Harry shrugged, but he already knew. "I'm sure it has something to do with allowing the public to know that the Ministry is meddling with Dark Magic?"

Kinglsey pointed a finger at him, "Exactly! This is terrifying information for a group of people who wish to only know how to transfigure a teapot into a pair of socks. This goes beyond the education of the typical Wizard."

"Then have the Aurors and the staff protecting the prophecies work this. You mean to tell me an Auror would not enjoy it?"

"I am saying they are not appropriate!" Kingsley signed and jabbed at the papers violently. Harry hung onto his every word. "This needs to be in the care of those skilled in ancient magic...researchers...those who will determine the damage before a buffoon attempts to try it on his own."

Harry held out his hands in defense, "And that is all I ask! It is worth looking into. There is much we can learn from what has happened, and now we can make sure we are familiar with the material in case some idiot wants to take over the Ministry again."

This made Kingsley laugh. "Indeed. We do not need another one of those."

Harry laughed, the first time in weeks. He settled into silence again, wondering if he should tell the Minister his plans.

"I can see you wish to say something. I cannot grant it just yet, Harry."

"I dont need you to," he said suddenly. "I also came here to tell you that I am leaving for awhile. Too many awful memories, and I wish to keep away from everything for now. This means the Weasely's-everyone."

Kingsley stared at him for a moment as if attempting to find the right words to say. Harry just wanted him to say what he wanted and get it over with.

"I understand, Harry. I do. While I do not agree that keeping the Weasley's out of your life is the correct decision, I truly think you need the time."

"Thank you, sir."

"But does this have anything to do with the Fosters and that other family? We have cleared that with them."

Harry shook his head sadly. "It is everything, sir. Absolutely everything."

Kingsley stood and held out his hand to the young wizard in front of him. "Right. Well, Harry, I appreciate all you have done for our community. I will never be able so say enough to you. But please, come to us again. I will have a job for you by then!"

Harry took the Minister's hand and smiled. "And I would take it immediately!"

Kingsley laughed, and placed the documents into his secured cabinet. Harry was unable to see the charm the man had used. All for the best..he never wanted to see those again...at least not until he landed the job as an Auror.

Kinglsey led him to the door and Harry altered his appearance. "I am I left to assume that I have never seen you today, Harry?"

The boy named Anderson grinned, "Naturally!"

Ginny pounded on the door of Grimmauld Place as if it were Harry himself. The only way she would forgive him was if he were lying dead or unconscious on the hallway floor. Almost immediately she regretted the thought and pounded louder in hopes to wake him. The door shifted and Ginny peered down into the sorrowful eyes of the house elf. He was holding a faded envelope in his gnarled fingers.

"Kreacher! Where is he? Don't tell me he left!"

The poor elf wailed and threw the envelope through the door and slammed it shut in her face. It fluttered on the sidewalk and attempted to blow itself down the street. Ginny leaped off the steps and pinned it to the cement. It was definitely written in his handwriting, and his words made no effort into easing her pain.

 _Dear Weasley Family_

 _My decision is not by a fault of any of you. I suppose, in the simplest way to say it, I am attempting to find my true self. I am not the Chosen One. I am not a Freak. I just want to learn about who Harry is. I understand that no matter how long of a letter I write, it will not help you to see what I mean. I will hurt you in doing this. All I can do is apologize again and again. I do not wish to be anyone else but a nobody, and when I find myself, I will return to the Wizarding world again. Will it be in a matter of months, a year? Years? I don't know, and I am not supposed to know. I will write briefly. I appreciate your patience in this, and all the love these past 6 years. You all truly are the best family anyone could ask for. As for Ginny, I love you so much. So much it hurts, and no matter what I do I can't stop feeling it. When I come back I will give you the best life imaginable! Naturally, if you find love outside of our relationship, I cannot stop you. Love you always,_

 _Harry Potter_

Ginny traced his words with trembling fingers. She could almost feel him as he wrote the letter, anguished. She felt terribly lonely and exposed on the street. The boy she had loved for 6 years had disappeared, and she could not imagine moving on without him. Ginny glanced around her, hoping to find him in the trees, yet there was nothing. She was alone.

Kingsley was closing up his office for the day. Harry's findings were locked safely away, and awaiting inspection from a representative of the Board of Wizardry. If there was one person in the world he wished to see the documents, it was Angus Teeter. He sighed and locked his door, only to jump in alarm as a very serious Arthur Weasley stood before him. The receptionist had already left.

"Arthur...what brings you here so late?" Kinglsey forced himself to appear nonchalant.

Arthur pulled out a wrinkled letter and shoved it in the man's chest. "Where did he go?"

The Minister fumbled with the paper and focused on the first line, and folded it neatly as he finished. "What makes you think I know where he is?"

Arthur Weasley folded his arms after snatching the letter back. "He told my daughter last night that he had some information for you. He was supposed to meet with us today at noon but never showed up. Why was he here with you?"

Kingsley sighed and wiped his face, which oddly had sweat pooling at his temples. "Briefly, Arthur. He handed me some documents and left. I know nothing."

"No secret missions, can you promise me that?"

"No, no! He is not on any mission. I can guarantee you that."

Arthur moaned softly and stared at his feet. "I was hoping to leave with an answer. As you can imagine, our house is not a happy one."

Kingsley gathered the man by the shoulder and the two paced toward the lift. "Arthur, listen to him. He is not a boy any longer. He is not giving up. He simply wants to live a life he had lost. Harry is doing exactly what we asked him to do. He will return in his own time."

Nodding once, Arthur agreed and opened the lift. "I hadn't thought much about it, Kingsley, but after these past few months, it truly feels as though I have lost two sons."

The man was comforted as the two proceeded down to the main level of the Ministry.


	6. Reminiscing

Harry still couldn't believe his luck. After walking into Gringotts, pulling as much gold as he could carry in his vanishing money bag, he left the overbearing Wizarding world behind him. He felt almost giddy, and as he spent the nights in multiple hotels, just to be sure he was not tailed, Harry never felt more free in his life. The fear of nightmares were not as heavy before he slept, and even when his memories tore him awake from his sleep, the unfamiliar Muggle room made him feel safe. He was becoming used to a more independent and predictable life, even if he had to remind himself how to use a darn microwave.

Harry awoke slowly, not wanting to move. He had chosen to stay at The Midland hotel in Manchester and was not afraid to hand over heavy money in order to ebb away the pressing feeling in his chest—he knew it was guilt—and he continued to tell himself otherwise. Upon seeing the sun behind him peek through the white curtains he became lost in thought about the life he left behind. He knew it would only be a period of time before homesickness came through, and he wished it would just go away. Not only was he alone, he was discovering the Muggle world in ways he never could with the Dursley's. Harry had gone to gaming store, rented out a system, and played a fantasy game for 8 hours straight. Just the other day he ventured to a car dealership and sat in every floor car, then told the salesman he wasn't interested-just because he could. It felt amazing to sit in the driver's seat, and not crammed between the door and his fat cousin. The experiences continued to get better, but his disappointment only seemed to creep deeper. Being alone was not as amazing any longer, and his memories were beginning to return. Attempting to avoid the darkness he sought out the faces of the Weasley's and what they could be doing at this moment. Mrs. Weasley was possibly tidying up the kitchen. Mr. Weasley would be tinkering in his shed with Muggle items hoping to find the correlation between their odd contraptions. Ron, naturally, would still be asleep and snoring heavily. Yet Ginny...Ginny was brushing her red hair in the mirror. After that a simple clip pulled the hair from her eyes, and she stared at herself as if she were looking at him. Silent, with a glint of a smile in her eyes.

Harry groaned and dropped the pillow on his face. This was really putting a damper on his renewing happiness. He listened a moment to the sounds of the street below to get himself refocused. "I'm miles away," he told himself. "It would take forever without magic to get to them anyway." Harry truly was avoiding magic. It was a way to trace him, and who knows what he would find if he dared to.

Harry managed to drag himself to the window where the typical morning buzz was occurring 5 stories below. Women impressed him with their quick footwork in heels, and how many crates of books one man was able to load on his motorcycle. Sirius had a motorcycle... "Damn it!" he hissed. Why did he think of that? Harry knocked on his forehead as if to punish himself—he had been three days without dwelling on the fact that he was the foolish one to get his godfather murdered. Everything he did brought a new memory, whether it be the Dursley's or Dumbledore. He had to follow an older gentleman in the botanical garden just to make sure it wasn't his dead headmaster masquerading as a Muggle. Harry thought of Ginny and the night she came to Grimmauld Place and could still smell her hair...still see her smile. And as Harry peered down at the Vienna Coffee Shop his eyes focused on a dark man with broad shoulders drinking alone. He had a newspaper firmly in his grasp, and Harry was holding the curtains just as strong. This man appeared to be Kinglsey's brother in resemblance, and that was all Harry needed.

Kingsley had been avoiding the stack of research Harry had left him for weeks. It was a thorn in his side, and he knew that the sooner he called Angus Teeter, the sooner his conscience would subside in pestering. The man in question... _Sir_ Angus Teeter to be formal, was a well respected Auror amongst the rogue sort. Disdained by the Ministry, as was the man to the Ministry itself, was the reason Kingsley sought his knowledge. Not only was the man responsible for discovering the spies in the first war with HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED, he became best known for the research in Dark Arts to benefit the very government he turned in. It was not the thorn that urged the Minister to send an urgent owl to Teeter, but a elderly owl who bore a letter written on plain paper.

Kingsley approached the animal with interest, noting the stationary to a hotel, and obvious Muggle ink scrawled in messy handwriting.

 _Kingsley-_

 _I suppose I am writing to check in and state that I am alive and well. I have experienced life in ways I never have, and although alone, it does not limit me. There still has been plenty of time to think, whether I care to or not. I know that you have gotten the historical accounts from Ron and Hermione, as well as the students at Hogwarts- and I believe that I am ready to disclose what had happened after the pensieve. All of this, no one else knows, and I feel compelled to tell you, and only you, what had occurred in the forest. I assure you it is far more compelling than anything I could dream up. I do want you to pass on to the others my regards, if they take it. Meet me at the London City Hotel Sunday at half past 11, and alert the lobby staff if you can. Naturally, I will be free most of the day._

 _-Anderson_

The simple letter had Kingsley's heart racing in excitement. Adding Harry's historical insight to the matter of Voldemort's demise would close the gap in Wizarding history. Above all, it meant that Harry was healing. After pacing several moments, Kinglsey rushed to his calendar to see his schedule for the week and dismissed the 'Bureau luncheon' that was occurring at noon. Any excuse to avoid the Malfoy's advocate was a bloody good one. The hotel itself was not far, and he knew Harry must be hiding there in the meantime in fear of being seen. The feelings of excitement became muddled with concern, remembering that he still had not given Angus the research. Instantly, he opened the lock and removed the papers and making sure he had every document. Kinglsey burst through the doors of his office and hailed his

secretary, who appeared frightened at the noise.

"Lana, summon an owl for Angus Teeter at once. He is at a conference in Southgate!"

"Yes, of course!"

Kinglsey was about to shut his door, then turned to face her. "And when you're done with that, call Arthur Weasley."

Arthur was preparing to catch up with his son, Percy, for a bite of lunch and sighed at the load of work he needed to finish. Due to the Ministry's restriction on Muggle items and interactions lifted, everything was backlogged. Just the other day they had to rescue a Ministry Owl from apparent Muggle bird watchers, who thought it was interesting that a barn owl had something strapped to it. Arthur had to play on the idea that they were college professors assisting their students with a communication experiment. It seemed to work, and he was glad since he didn't have to risk ruining a memory charm on the old chaps. After a final sigh, he proceeded to exit the department's door and head down the hallway, where he ran straight into an inter-department memo.

"Argh!" he moaned. The pointed tip left an impression on his forehead, which he rubbed vigorously. Arthur tore the seal and breezed through the words, picking up speed as he read. Kinglsey had 'interesting' news that he wanted to share, and it could only be about one person. He waddled through the main atrium, up three flights of stairs, down another hallway, and rushed the front desk of the Minister. He was sweating profusely.

"Um, hello, Lana. Ugh, I was summoned?"

Lana grimaced at his appearance. "Yes, I will call him at once."

"Right, thanks!" Mr. Weasley paced the waiting area, not really understanding why he was so anxious. He truly hoped it was good news. His wife checked the papers daily to find anything out on Harry before Ginny did. Ginny herself was spending her time with Neville and Luna, lovely people of course, yet he was sure the three of them were out searching for Harry under their nose. How the Bloody Hell was she supposed to know the daily news of Surrey without reading the papers?

The door creaked open and Kingsley beckoned him in. "Arthur, sorry to call you in just before lunch." Mr. Weasley brushed it aside and followed the man into his office.

"No issue, Percy can wait."

Kingsley returned from his desk and handed the letter from Harry to the man. "It's only been a month and he seems to be pulling around. I will be sending an owl to him soon to confirm this and bring good words from the Weasley household, if that be the case?"

Arthur poured over the boy's words and nodded. "Yes, of course. There is no ill feelings towards him from our family that will not mend. We just need to know he is safe."

"Well, he is doing some good hiding. He uses no magic, even without a wand. Since this letter, I had a man I trust locate him in Manchester where the stationary originates and was successful. At this time Harry has been seen preparing to board a train for King's Cross. His words appear true so far."

Mr. Weasley sighed with relief. "I am pleased to hear this, Kinglsey, but that boy needs a wand. Even from my department I hear stories of Slytherin families retaliating against the Ministry for imprisoning their loved ones. Please convince him to buy another from Ollivander's!"

Kinglsey took back the letter and shrugged helplessly. "It is up to him, Arthur. We have to remember that he is a man, not a child. For once in his life his decisions are his, and I cannot order him to expose himself to the Wizarding World if he is not ready."

The man sighed. "Right. A habit of ours, I suppose?"

"The threats are still there, Arthur, I do not deny it, but the angry Slytherins are a minority. Most of them are bending to the Ministry's will to get out of Azkaban. Harry is the safest now more than he ever was."

Silence followed the Minister's voice, and Mr. Weasley was left to ponder on his words heavily. Eventually he handed over the letter and was unable to make eye contact with the man.

"Please, send him our warm wishes, will you? We miss him terribly."

Kingsley cupped a hand on the man's back gently, easing his worries. "He will know exactly who his family is."

Mr. Weasley swept through the halls of the Ministry with purpose. Harry was alive...and he was coming back to London.

The day was fading fast and Kingsley was exhausted. His secretary had left and he was preparing for the next day's meetings—one of which was determining if the evidence holding two Death Eater's were fit for trial. Kingsley could not fathom that after over 20 years, this nightmare was over—and two wars won by a mere child with powers he never knew he had. The new reality would be difficult to imagine, and the man could see the reason as to why Harry was feeling terribly lost.

The door made a sudden, thrusting movement, and the man turned his wand upon the stranger who dared to enter his office. There, with his scarred face pitched in darkness from the fading sun, was Sir Angus Teeter.

"Come off it, Kingsley." he laughed. "You're the one who left the door open."


	7. Angus Teeter

I APPRECIATE ALL YOUR LOVE AND HERE COMES THE NEXT CHAPTER!

Harry was oblivious to anyone following him to the station in Manchester. Being aware of the surroundings was Hermione's skillset, and focused primarily on his quickening anxiety about returning to familiar Muggle London. He truly did enjoy spending time alone, and he felt great satisfaction in experiencing his independence as both a Muggle and a Wizard. Obstacles were present, as usual, normally in requiring identification for services. Harry had to turn down multiple hotels due to their needing his ID card for holding a room. One more thing he needed to do, and naturally, he hoped it would not require finding Aunt Petunia to get the documents.

He approached the ticket counter and smoothly asked for the next train to London, and the transaction in cash occurred without fail. Harry gathered his things over his shoulder and became lost in the crowd—something he was becoming very good at.

Arthur Weasely was not able to determine if exposing Harry's plan to return to London was his best idea. The very same day Kingsley showed him the letter, he passed the information on to his fretting wife and children.

"Oh, you mean it, Arthur!?" Molly exclaimed. "He's coming back?"

"Well, yes, dear, but he is meeting only with Kinglsey. I cannot even see him."

Whatever hope Ginny Weasley had was stomped. "Why is he just seeing him? Is he joining as an Auror? He should be able to see us!"

Ron refused to join into the conversation. He could tell it was not going to end well and he would have rather agreed with Hermione and gone and visited her and her parents for the afternoon.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders and accepted the cup of strong coffee that his wife placed in his hands. "From the letter it appears that Harry is wanting to share a bit of information of what happened in the forest."

"The night Hogwarts was attacked?"

"Yes. And only Kingsley is asked to hear about it. He has to accept this meeting, the Ministry has had information missing for months. No one really has any idea how Harry survived. Hagrid swore Harry was dead after the curse."

Ginny folded her arms in contempt. "He will be dead after mine if he doesn't come home!"

Ron rolled his eyes, "Oh, here we go!"

"Shut up, Ron! He's out there trying to avoid us and all you and Hermione are doing are running around together and snogging!"

"Hey, leave Hermione out of it!" His ears were turning pink.

"Exactly! Bring her back into it. You haven't seemed one bit worried about him."

Arthur sighed heavily.

Ron straightened his back and returned the argument. "I don't worry because I know why he is doing it! Think about it for a second, will you? He's spent his life stuffed into a closet and a locked bedroom, hated, hunted, and all Harry wants is to feel normal. I am giving him that space and not telling him what to do like everyone else!"

Ginny wanted to knock his lights out, but her mother put an end to it with a resounding "ENOUGH!" that rattled the walls. All four of them fell silent and Mrs. Weasley was now the only one standing. "As much as all of us want to see Harry, Ron is right. Harry is determining his life now, and if he wants to meet with the Minister alone, he will do so."

Again, Mr. Weasley pretended that it was his best idea to tell them, and ignored the fact that his beverage was terribly burning his mouth.

Kinglsey instantly felt the fear ebb away as he realized it was Angus Teeter in his office. It was replaced with a stab of irritability that he could not wait until the next day, as it had been a very taxing afternoon with ministry details.

"Of course, Teeter. I see that I have neglected to lock my office for the evening. I was just about to step out."

It wasn't going to work. Angus cooly walked around and stared at the trinkets on the shelves, habitually touching the most breakable items. It irked Kingsley immensely.

"I thought I would drop in to see for myself what the Savior of the Wizarding World had for me." He paused with a mocked, surprised face. "Oh, apologies, I thought you said it was urgent, was it not?"

Kingsley sighed. "Of course, you just caught me before I left."

"Good!" the man barked. "Well let's have at it!"

"Will you be leaving with these documents?"

The man had a spark in his eye that the Minister did not like. "I would rather we delve straight into it tonight and make our judgment. No need in having this material strewn all over London!"

"Yes, yes."

Kingsley wanted to groan but held it back. What was another 4 hours in the work day? The man had already made himself at home, and was already setting up the cushions on his maroon sofa. He was preparing to light a cigarette. A Muggle one at that.

"Here you are. All found at the Black residence."

"A great start already!" the man exclaimed. "Home of the cousins of Miss Lestrange and that tosser Regalus."

"Indeed." Kingsley muttered.

"It is very interesting to me...all these so called Pure-Blood families...they are so bent on preserving culture and wealth they agree to marry their own blood. How desperate!"

"Mhm..." The minister was having difficulty maintaining composure with the man. Without asking he had gone through the drawers next to the sofa and pulled out random items, and when he did not find what he wanted, attempted to stand up from his seat. "What do you need, Teeter?"

Angus lifted his wand as a response. "Accio magnifier." And just like that, the desk across from the man jiggled and produced a lens in the hands of Teeter. "Ah, yes. Much better."

Kinglsey's anger was palpable.

"Oh don't get yourself heated, Minister! Where are your manners when you have guests?"

"My guests come at reasonable hours and are respectful to my belongings."

"Nonsense! Look what I have found already!" Teeter patted the paper with a very Slytherin look on his face. "The Potter brat has already brought up history of the Founders of Hogwarts. Who knew how relevant they would be today?"

"Yes, about their ties to the Horcruxes."

Teeter straightened his back. "Oh but it's much more than that! And Potter knows! As I skim down all of this information, Kingsley, of what little I have seen in this enormous pile, the lesson is permeability. Do you know what I am saying?"

The man's grin did not settle with the Minister, who was attempting to remain calm. "I do not."

"I think we forget how small our community really is. Every terrible foe has been down the same path as the rest of us decent chaps. The same process...if I could clarify. It has been this way for centuries. Our history is based off the same framework, same knowledge! If you think about it, we have all done the same thing since the beginning of established education in the magical arts!"

"You lost me." Kingsley was getting too tired for this.

"Hogwarts, Minister! The whole establishment of Hogwarts is divied up from the ideals of four buffoons who have layed the foundation of how our society works today. Every Wizarding child in England enters its doors, learns its lessons, and whether your courageous, sneaky, crafty or a complete dolt, you are a product of these Founders." The man became more excited as he continued to read the documents. "Rightly so, there are always the rogues like myself who fight the norm, as many of our evildoers also follow. And it's more than me just being a Slytherin, my friend! It is access to centuries of lineages and secrets."

"You are rambling."

"Merely thinking aloud, you know! As I think, why do you believe there is a Restricted Section in the Hogwarts library? What purpose does it really have to our innocent, fresh young people's education?"

"Controlled information."

"Censorship! That's all it is! Keep the children out of the dark of the vast knowledge discovered by previous students grown as old as Dumbledore himself. That is where the evil lurks, Kingsley. Not as grown men, but a fragile adolescent mind seeking answers."

"You are contradicting yourself. It is controlled information to allow children to learn what they need from those books and put them away."

Angus Teeter smiled coyly. "Well, that didn't stop a young Riddle from learning, did it? Or how he managed to create Horcruxes under the nose of educated professors!"

Kingsley forced a laugh. "You wish to teach them this information instead?"

For once Teeter appeared frustrated. " I am saying, if our young witches and wizards understand the events that led up to Voldemort's tyranny, if they grow to become professors, do they know more than their students to look for other kids like Riddle? If Dumbledore as a professor knew of the signs, could he have known that Riddle's blaring questions were answers found in the Restricted Section! And additionally, unknown by professors. The same professors who went to Hogwarts with the SAME library! Don't you see what I am saying, Kingsley? We are withholding information from the very people who can stop tyranny—our students!"

Kinglsey had the sudden question if Harry himself had used the Restricted Section to discover withheld information during his school year. If so, had it stopped destruction? This was something he needed to address with Harry the next day. Kinglsey himself was torn. What was the purpose of teaching children the Dark Arts if they needed to focus on the good? Again, how has their Defense Against the Dark Arts class really protected them? Harry had to have the knowledge to infiltrate, stop protect himself and his friends from certain death. To think he had not...

Kingsley thought hard about what his words would be. "I see your point, Angus. I need to speak to Harry. He's requested a meeting with me tomorrow. What else do you see in his notes?"

"Oh trust me, your Golden Boy agrees with me. How else do you think he knows so much? Probably sneaking to the Restricted Section all hours of the night! The rest of this is historical...some leads as to where some of what could be missing from areas such as the Dept of Mysteries and the Restricted Section itself. That, your Aurors could delve into."

"I cannot have the Wizarding World know we are researching families and the Dark Arts!"

"Hold yourself accountable!" the man exclaimed. "They expect you to protect them. Find out the secrets of these families, find the ties between their lineages, and be the change this ministry needs! Fudge cannot coddle us any longer, and the people are looking for change. Let them know that you are going to make it right by 'knowing'."

Kingsley folded his hands against his forehead and sighed. Why did the man have to be right.

"Oh, and Minister, when you see the Potter brat, give him my kind regards!"

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! I PROMISE TO BE MORE INVOLVED NOW THAT MY EMT CLASS IS OVER, AND I HAVE MORE TIME TO SPARE. SEND ME YOUR LOVE AS I TYPE UP THE NEXT CHAPTERS!


	8. London

Thanks so much for continuing to read my story! It is going to go down a more angsty road following this chapter, so stay tuned!

Harry paced the window at the London City Hotel and peered for signs of Kingsley arriving. He was sure he was ready, and also hoped to pass on some kind words to the Weasley family. The night before had not been restful at all, and he spent hours simply sitting at the window looking down at traffic. Harry loathed the night his insomnia refused to allow him to rest because it force him to think back on the past. Desperate for any kind of release to distract his mind, he had walked to the corner store and bought his first pack of cigarettes hoping it would leave him feeling better and elevated. Harry realized that after coughing several times he was slowly getting better at the habit, and felt oddly pleased at himself. With morning passing into noon, Harry opened his window and lit his fourth cigarette and continued to look for the wizard.

Kingsley wore a long sleeved blue dress shirt and dark pants on his visit to Harry's hotel. Despite the dragon hide boots, he believed he was appearing as Muggle as possible. The hotel was in a busy area of town, and he had to fight through crowds just to finally reach the lobby where a bleach blonde young woman raised an eyebrow at him.

"Welcome to London City Hotel, how can I help you?" She didn't appear to care much about how he felt.

"Yes, I am needing to know the room of a young man named Anderson."

The woman casually picked up a yellow slip of paper next to her computer and read it, then replied "What's your name, sir?"

"Kingsley, Miss."

The woman then sighed. "Rat, Wolf, Dog, then what to complete the group?"

Kingsley stared bizarrely at the woman, who appeared increasingly annoyed at the game she was being forced to play.

"I'm not sure I understand." he replied.

"Well, in order to see Anderson, or whoever, you need to answer that." A line was beginning to form behind him and the woman was now raising her other eyebrow.

Kingsley knew Harry was using a typical Order code to prove his identity, but he was frustrated that Harry thought it was easy to figure out. Rats and Dogs?

"Well, do you know or not? That man behind you needs to turn in his key."

Kinglsey turned to see a middle aged man oblivious to their conversation, as he was having his own irritated display in the lobby arguing into his cell phone about deadlines and something about not being able to vacation in time for hunting season. Kingsley thought immediately of the woods, and what animals he could possibly be thinking of hunting when the idea came into his mind. And it wasn't about animals.

"Well, sir?"

"Er, yes...a stag...or prong. He may have listed one or the other."

Her shoulders shrugged and with a roll of her eyes she wrote down something on a paper and held it out to him.

Room A 303

Kingsley nodded at the woman and rushed toward the elevator, cursing at himself for not understanding it sooner.

Harry thought he saw Kingsley enter the hotel, but it was hard to tell from the height of his room. He became nervous anyhow, and attempted to tidy up around the place where he arranged two sitting chairs next to the window. There was not much to clean as he had very little. The tea was ready to brew, but that would have to wait until the man came up...should be brew it anyway? Harry sighed heavily and instead went to the sink to wash his face. He felt better instantly.

Moments later a soft knock appeared at the door, and Harry immediately went to peer to see who it was. His stomach jumped when he recognized the man. Harry took a deep breath and unlocked the door.

Kingsley's eyes met his, and the two exchanged a handshake. Harry directed him inside and quickly checked the hallways to see if there was anyone else.

"I came alone, Potter, just as you asked." came Kingsley's voice behind him.

"Yes," Harry said as he shut the door. "But it is also London, and you're the Minster of Magic."

"Naturally, but there are no reporters lurking around here, even that Skeeter woman wouldn't be able to get passed me."

Harry shrugged at the man. "I also worry about people who may be trying to find me...I hear of one Slytherin family in particular who want to get their hands on each of us."

Kingsley felt a bit of disappointment. Harry was still on edge, and he hoped that it wouldn't hinder the idea of him returning home.

"Again, Harry, it is just you and I."

Harry had to trust him, and with a gesture he lead them both to the chairs, and Harry set the electric kettle on to prepare the tea.

"Amazing, those contraptions! Although I am sure it is all nothing new to you."

"Some things I had to think about before using them." he replied. "Usually things like televisions and stoves. Each one is different and took a bit of time to remember." The water was soon bubbling and he set the tea bags in the cups.

Kingsley took his cup in his hands and Harry got himself settled, trying to not allow himself to shake in anticipation. He had prepared himself for days to do this, but it hadn't made it any easier. It just resulted into longer nights. Kingsley had cleared his throat and brought him back.

"Well, first of all, the Weasley's send their love. They made sure I told you."

"Oh, good..." Harry's voice faltered and he took a sip of his tea to fill the silence.

"Other than thinking up riddles to get up to your room, what else have you been doing to occupy your time?" The man's teasing voice let Harry feel more calm.

He shrugged again. "Just trying to be normal. Did some things that I was never allowed to do while at the Dursley's. I basically did what I wanted for once."

"That sounds excellent. I assume it took some of the mind off of the Wizarding World?"

Harry wanted to tell him that all it brought was temporary happiness, but like a bandaid it was always just ripped off. He was lonely, he was still depressed, but he only nodded and focused outside at a group of pigeons taking off. He just wasn't able to be honest.

Kingsley could feel the detachment already, and he felt mildly inclined to ask more about the past few weeks, but decided better of it. "I was able to speak to someone about your findings. He had an interesting idea."

Harry instantly turned away from the window and nodded. "What did they say?"

"I wanted to ask you, first of all, how often did you frequent the Restricted Section at the library?"

The question prompted Harry to smile slightly. He thought about those times sneaking off under the Invisibility Cloak and avoiding Mr. Filch—coughing on heavily dusted books, and finding a vast amount of knowledge that they could only use to help them in times of need.

"What do you think, Minister?"

A smirk crossed the man's face. "Naturally, I would have usually condoned such behavior, but I assume your meddling in school only helped you find out the truth."

"No one else wanted to tell me."

"Reluctantly I am open to the idea of our Aurors and Dept of Mysteries to look into the Dark Arts as a form of surveillance. It has been brought to my attention that too much evil had been lurking around Hogwarts without a blink of an eye from superiors. I only hope that it is accepted well from the Magical community."

"It needs to be done," Harry stated immediately. "There was so much we could have done sooner having access to that information."

Kinglsey nodded but held his hand up to prove a point. "Yes, but a young group of children such as you and your friends took it upon yourselves instead of alerting persons such as McGonnagall and Dumbledore."

Harry felt the anger come back in an instant. "They never listened! It seemed as if when we found a clue they played dumb and told us we were worried about nothing. They did not want to tell us anything! We would warn them, and they did nothing!"

"Your case was difficult, Harry. Not only were you and your friends children, but you were Harry Potter. As time went on your life was threatened, and needed to be protected. They thought the little you knew the better, and that caused you grief, I understand that."

He didn't care about his tea anymore. "No, it caused the death of Sirius! It gave me false hope that my life was more than just a sacrifice to some cause!

Kingsley remained firm. "This is what I am forced to find the balance of. What is too much information? How do I regulate? A child with the knowledge of Dark Magic, will they use it for good or for ill means? Any of this information to you could have also caused more harm than it be to help you."

Harry felt the tears pool into his eyes but he forced the conversation away from where it was going. "I called you here to talk about the forest. I know you spoke to Dumbledore's painting, but there is more than that."

Kingsley allowed the change of subject. "Of course, Harry. What happened after you took the memories Severeus Snape gave you to the Pensieve?"

Harry went into detail of Snape's account for the past years of his mother's life, Snape's disdain of his father, and the man's commitment to Lily. And with great difficulty, managed the reason as to why he had to die. The memory of it forced Harry to stop. He remembered the feeling strongly...the drop of his heart into his stomach...just stunned to the point of shock. His whole life felt like a lie. It felt scripted, and as much as Harry respected Dumbledore, the pain of betrayal stung worse.

Kingsley waited for Harry to say more, but the boy was mute. "I can't imagine hearing that news. What did you feel?"

Harry wanted him to not ask that question...he was still asking why he had to hear he was set up to die. "I felt it made sense, why not?"

"The Hallows...there were three. What of the Resurrection Stone?"

"Dumbledore hid it in a Snitch. I never understood what it meant. It had _I open at the close_ engraved, but it never made sense until the end. I just knew, and I told it I was ready."

"Dumbledore had it all along?"

"He had two. The cloak and the stone. Somehow he trusted me with the cloak. I assume he knew I would put it to good use."

Harry heard the question he dreaded.

"Did you see them...as the story tells?"

He nodded silently. After a moment he managed to get his words out. "All of them. They said they were proud, and my mother said I was brave. I asked what if felt like to die... Then I went to meet Voldemort." Harry felt his leg shake with his increasing anxiety. It wasn't getting any better.

"Who was there?"

"Everyone he controlled. He somehow had Hagrid. All Voldemort did was laugh, they all did. And I let him kill me." Harry wished Kingsley would just kill him now...his mind was perserverating on the idea of his parents, godfather, and professor standing next to him...as if they were alive. He ached for them.

"Harry, if this is distressing we can talk about something else." The man's voice was calming, but Harry did not feel calm. Instead he closed his eyes and set his head into his hand, wishing the interview would hurry up.

"No, I need to tell you about Dumbledore. That portrait won't tell you about what happened after I died."

"What did you see?"

Harry recounted the disfigured horcrux and eerie loneliness if not for Dumbledore appearing before him. He recounted everything the man had revealed, and the choice that he had to make in order to move on from King's Cross Station. He spoke of Narcissa Malfoy lying to the Dark Lord, the second time she dared to do so.

Kingsley felt immense pride in the man before him. Harry truly was a hero, brave and ultimately on the quest for normalcy. It made much more sense to him now. "Harry, thank you for telling me all of this. I see that it has been difficult for you. I hope you are not regretting the decision you had made to come back."

Harry paused a moment. He had thought about this question many times, and he still wasn't sure what his answer was. "It depends on the day," was all he could say to the man.

"Anyone in your position could have fled in fear. You did not. Only a strong Gryffindor can such a task, and I honor you for it."

Harry wished he could feel more pride in the man's words, but he still felt just that...afraid. He was afraid of himself, of his memories, and of his damn dreams.

"Harry, I must ask you...are you willing to go back to Ollivander's to get a new wand? I know the Weasleys would feel much more at ease if you were armed."

Harry remembered the poor man locked away in Malfoy's Manor—and here he was already back doing what he had been imprisoned for. "I don't know."

"I can make sure you are escorted."

"It's not necessary, Kingsley." Harry sighed and continued to attempt to get comfortable in his chair. His tea was forgotten next to the window.

The Minister knew what the answer to his next question was, but he asked anyways. "Will you return to Grimmauld Place, or perhaps the Weasley's?"

Harry looked at him with pleading eyes. "Please, sir, I thought I was ready but I really just need this meeting to end. I'm done with it!"

Kingsley was taken back briefly, but could see the boy was close to tears, and heavily burdened by terrible memories. He also did not want to leave him in such a state. Harry saw this.

"I will be fine, I just need to be alone." He rushed the man as he stood, and led him to the door. "I'm sorry."

Kingsley halted at the door before he allowed him to close it. "Harry, just do not forget who your family is, and who your true friends are. Call upon them if your need to do so."

Harry nodded, but he felt detached. After shutting and locking the door, Harry went to the mini fridge and finished off the 4oz bottle of vodka. Lighting another cigarette, he attempted to avoid the rising anxiety in his chest that drove him mad. He had to get out. Harry took the wadded cash he had and shoved them into his pockets before slamming his hotel door.


	9. Lambeth Walk

**Here's the next one! Thanks again for reading!**

Harry didn't know where he was going. All he knew was that his legs were taking him down Borough Street and he didn't stop until he hit the Costa Coffee shop. Perhaps an iced coffee would snap him out of his rut. The place was busy, loud, and Harry managed to avoid the line by instead skimming the community board just to look as if he wasn't overwhelmed. There was an add for a 5k run outside of London, and a list of music lessons. In particular, there was one that caught his eye-

"Flatmate wanted: 300 per month 4/20 friendly, pays rent on time, no pets"

He wasn't sure what 4/20 friendly meant, but he knew for a fact that hotel hopping was getting expensive, and he wasn't returning to Grimmauld Place anytime soon. Harry did not have a phone, which would have been useful to call the number of the ad. He managed to act dumb, stating that his got dropped into the sink, and the barista let him borrow their landline. He was nervous. This was either a terrible idea or he was finally becoming independent. The line stopped ringing, and a rather casual male voice answered the phone.

"Yeah?"

Harry forced his voice to rise above the sounds of blenders in the shop. "Uh, yeah...I was calling about the flat."

The man's voice picked up immediately. "Oy, brilliant! You all good with us mates staying up late?"

"Don't sleep, so sure." He scoffed at himself...did he ever?

"Perfect! We are a rowdy bunch, one other bloke. You have pets?

"No."

"Good, we don't want them eating our stash."

"Um, okay. Can I look at the place today?"

"Just about to ask you if you could. We really need the income coming in, you know? We live just off Lambeth Walk and Lollard st. Get off the Lambeth North station and just follow the address."

Harry took down the address hesitantly. He really had no idea where they lived, but the man made it seem as if it weren't too far off as he described his living situation at the London City Hotel.

The man seemed to be able to feel his lack of confidence. "Never introduced myself, apologies. David, and you are?"

He responded after a pause. "Harry."

"Right, Harry, how about we just come get you at the station? We'll be driving a blue car, four door. What you look like?"

Harry gave his description down to his clothes...which has become easier since for once, no one knew what he looked like anymore.

"If you head over by 3 you can get the room. One other lad wants to rent, but he's a bit of a nut, if you know what I mean."

Harry felt a rush of adrenaline as he finished the phone call. He had a goal besides running away and he felt almost giddy. He forgot about the coffee and rushed back to his hotel to check out. The blonde woman at the front desk gave him another annoyed stare and went on about how he missed the check out time, and charged him 25 pounds. Chump change, he thought, and went off to board the next train to Lambeth North.

Kingsley stepped into the atrium of the Ministry and immediately had his secretary call for Arthur Weasley again. He was not quit sure what to tell the man, but he had asked to be updated regardless. It seemed that no longer than 10 minutes that the interdepartment memo went out did the man arrive at the door.

"Let him in Lana."

Arthur walked in as he usually did, pacing and limiting his eye contact while concentrating on the floor.

"You met with him, I assume?"

"Yes," the Minister replied. "It seems he was not as healed as I was hoping for. He continues to avoid talking about stressing matters, and I have serious doubts he is returning to the Wizarding world any time soon, Arthur. I am afraid we will have to wait until he reaches out again."

Arthur appeared disappointed. "I see. Troubling, indeed. I suppose I will have to tell the family about this. The elf, Kreacher, states that Harry had not come home since he left. He must have taken out a good amount of gold."

"I do not doubt it. But he will have to do so at some point. Perhaps he will buy a wand when he does."

"I do hope so, Kingsley. I really do."

Towards the end of the day, Arthur arrived home and went about his usual routine, attempting to avoid his family's questions in case he appeared too discouraged. He decided to wait until supper, which was his favorite (roasted chicken), wishing it would help with the awkward pauses he knew would follow the news.

"Pass the buns please, love," his wife asked cheerfully. He did so nervously.

"Of course, dear."

Hermione was able to make it that night after vacationing with her parents. Her and Ron sat together as always, and it saddened him that Ginny was alone near George-both of them appearing very morose. It was now or never.

"Ahem," he coughed. "Kingsley shared a bit of news. He met with Harry today."

Their eyes lit up immediately. "What did he say, dear?" his wife asked desperately, looking at Ginny who had the same look on her face.

"Well, I'm afraid it did not go as well as we would have hoped. Harry is still not ready to return, and he still refuses to get a wand."

Hermione was offended by Harry's decisions. Why was he being so difficult? "Couldn't Kingsley have brought him one from Ollivander? He needs the same wand as before, why does he need to come to Diagon Alley?"

"I am assuming Ollivander does not prefer this. He wants to be sure it is a true fit, especially after Harry has been claimed by the Elder Wand in the past."

"He snapped it. What choice does he have now?" Ron muttered under his breath.

Ginny couldn't take the continuing bad news. She pushed her plate away from her and removed herself from the table. "He's so stupid!"

Hermione wanted to follow her up the steps but Arthur motioned for her to stay where she was. "No use, just let her go. Nothing we say will change anything."

Ron donned on his sister's mood and started mopping up sauce with his bread. "She's right though. Harry's gone mad and keeps running away from his problems. Why can't I do that?"

"Because we are a family, and we do this together," his mother stated flatly. "Harry has always felt alone. So he deals with his issues in the same manner-No matter how many times I told the boy he was one of mine."

Arthur decided to use a bit of humor to lighten the mood. "Well, it works out in the end. Then Harry and Ginny's relationship would have been so much more awkward, would it not?"

It took a moment, but the moodiness of the room filled with laughter. Hermione grinned, "I never thought about that!"

Mrs. Weasley was trying not to smile, but Arthur saw it. Crisis averted.

Harry almost missed the stop completely, being unable to see over the crowd what station they were on. He barely heard it over the loudspeaker and had to push through a group of teenagers to hold the door open and step out. The air smelled of the Thames and made him crinkle his nose at first. The station was smaller, and he managed to make it out to the road sooner than he thought, but he wasn't sure if he saw the blue car the man spoke of. Perhaps he was on the north side? Harry checked the station clock and realized that he had arrived a quarter to 3. He was a tad bit early. He managed to find a vending machine and got a pack of crisps and a water. He didn't realize he was starving. As the bustling of people came and went, Harry found himself becoming depressed again...what if he was being stood up? Why did that group of kids have to look like the Weasley's? Immediately his thoughts went to Fred, and how lonely George must feel without him. Harry wondered if the joke shop would be able to survive the loss of one of its founders, and it depressed him greatly.

His mood was disrupted by another group of kids pushing through, and he looked up and noticed a blue car begin to coast by the loading area. The driver scanned the crowd and the passenger opened up a pack of smokes. Harry liked them already. He walked up to them, attempting to appear confident, and called out the man's name.

A smile broke out on the passenger's face. "Oy, look it's him!"

They both appeared in their young 20's, and David was heavily tattooed while the driver had wispy red hair sticking out of his fedora and thick framed black glasses. David had dark hair, like Harry's but it was cut short and styled. He had a white Nirvana t-shirt, but Harry did not know who that was either. He really needed to find these things out if he wanted to be a Muggle.

"You look smaller in person." David noted.

"Bad genes," was the only thing Harry could think of to say.

"We will fatten you up, don't worry. Have you got your bags?"

Harry shrugged and tried to not appear as if he were a run away. "Nope, just my backpack. I've got stuff at another place but don't need it."

David appeared confused. "Oh, okay then. Well, get in and we will show you the place. It's not too far from here."

"Thanks." He quickly sat inside the car and before he could even strap himself in the driver took off.

David tried to fill the dead air. "So, Harry, where are you from?"

"Surrey. Awful Aunt and Uncle so I left."

"Wow, they must have been bad if you left Surrey. I would have loved to live in one of those homes."

"My parents were awful, too," said the driver. "Glad I cut them off."

"Harry, this is Jackson. Been my best mate since primary school."

"What do you guys do?"

They laughed sheepishly and each wanted to see what the other said. "Okay, well, part time I work at a damn dry cleaning place my old uncle owns," said David. "Jackson is part time at Queens Head bar. We have a side business of the illicit type, if you catch my drift."

Harry was getting an idea what 4/20 meant now. "I don't have anything but what belonged to my parents. They're dead."

David wrinkled his nose. "Oy, sorry about that, mate. Assuming the reason why you lived in Surrey? We can probably get you a job at Queen's Head."

Harry wanted to agree but realized one thing. "Oh, I don't have any ID or anything. Had to get out of there, you know?" He stared uncomfortably out the window.

"Shit, they were bad, weren't they? Bussers aren't usually paid in checks. I'm sure Daniel could give you that job."

Harry shrugged and attempted to avoid talking more about why he was on his own. As long as he played with the 'ran away from my aunt and uncle' charade, he would be good.

A few minutes later, they pulled down Lambeth Walk and into the last parking spot on the lot. It didn't seem too bad.

"Right, we are number 36, just there. Let's have a looksie."

It sort of appeared like student housing, but there was no university that Harry could see. The buildings were brick with blue doors, and 36 was just down the path and to the left.

"Is it just you two?"

"Mostly," Jackson said. "We have a lot of people coming in and out some weekends. Occasionally they will crash at our place, but we are starting to avoid that now. Too much vomit."

Harry forced a laugh.

David jiggled the keys into the lock, and Harry saw a black sofa take up most of the living space, and a galley kitchen to the left. There were only two rooms.

"You don't have your own spaces?"

Jackson shrugged. "We have bunk beds...we don't care that much. We need the income in the second bedroom, hence you."

Harry saw his presumed room and it appeared decent. There was an odd black stain on the floor, but other than that there was a twin bed shoved against the wall with a floor lamp.

David walked to the refrigerator and took out some string cheese to eat. "Yeah, I'm glad you have nothing. We didn't want to push that bed out if you had one."

"So the rent is 300?"

"Yeah, you'll have to buy your own food though, Jackson doesn't like to share."

"Well, if you would stop eating my cornettos I wouldn't have that problem. Buy your own damn ice cream."

"I think I'll take it."

David nodded, but became serious for a moment. "Look though, we know we don't run the most legal establishment, but we appreciate confidentiality on the matter. Plus, don't steal any of our stashes unless we give it to you, or buy it off us."

Harry shrugged. "Not to sound like a dolt, but I've done nothing of what you sell anyway. You won't find something stolen, trust me."

David and Jackson had a glint in their eyes that made Harry try not to laugh. "Really, now? Nothing?"

"No. How could I, I've never even seen them. All I do is smoke and that is a new habit."

"Jacks, I love this guy already! When do you want to move in?"

Harry peered back into the room and thought, _"_ _Well, I'm definitely not going back to Grimmauld Place."_

"Now?"

"Done!"


	10. Wedding Woes and Flying Dragons

**Here we go again! Just so you know I have never done these drugs so I really have no idea if these are true LOL**

Jackson and David couldn't, on their conscience, let Harry have a barren room. After convincing them he had money, they took him to a local store and helped him purchase furniture and bedsheets. He even bought more clothes that the set of three he had. Last stop was the food store, where Harry felt excitement over being able to prepare his own meals, and not for the Dursley's. He attempted to ignore the fact that his bag was dwindling cash. He would have to have Kreacher get money from Gringott's at this rate.

David worked 1-6 at the dry cleaners five days a week. He stated it was his uncle's dying business, and to help him on cost of labor he got a flat rate instead of hourly pay. Jackson bartended, and didn't mind the work, which was mainly 11-4 five days a week. This left Harry with a lot of time on his hands. Jackson's lead, Daniel, planned on helping him out the same hours his flatmate worked as long as he was productive not a 'lazy arse' as the last busser was. He just had to wait some time before the sports fans began their usual flood of his bar in the next few weeks.

"It's pretty dead right now," Jackson noted. "Come see us in a bit and we will have to have the patrons spill into the street."

Harry didn't mind. He rather liked being alone, but he forced himself to stay busy as having too much time to dwell on his feelings continued to get the best of him. He missed Ginny. Guilt over lying to her about coming to the house ate at his heart, and he had to admit that he really wanted to see her. Harry told himself that she hated his guts, and she had already moved on to Dean Thomas. They were probably engaged. He made up ludicrous stories about each Weasley and how they had moved on...anything to get his mind off missing them. When his flatmates had friends over, Harry kept to his room. They did not stay long after purchasing from David, and he had to keep fending the man off once they left, continuing to apologize about a few nights before. Harry had his first ever hit of marijuana, and the effects were not something he wanted to enjoy ever again. He had become highly anxious and he felt his heart rate quicken, like his heart was trying to escape his chest. It was the first in quit some time that he was legitimately fearful of his life...as if Voldemort was still alive and out to fulfill his revenge. He remembered Jackson and David using everything they could think of the calm him down, and convince him that he wasn't going to die. Embarrassed now, Harry made it his duty to avoid the two of them for the next few days.

David was thinking about the incident too, and as he read a book Harry heard the man knock on his door, questioning if he was all right.

"Yes, did they leave?"

David peeked through the crack in the door, then opened it wider to casually enter the room. "Yeah, they don't stay too long. They pretend to be downright buddies then leave you once they buy your crack."

"Hm.."

David seemed to want to get something off his chest, and was attempting to find the best way to put it. "Look, eh, you don't have to try that stuff anymore. Some people get all paranoid on it, but I didn't know you'd feel that way."

Harry shrugged. "I'm not blaming you two. I was just feeling out of control."

"Yes, well, you kept blabbering about someone coming to kill you. Were you talking about your uncle or something?"

Harry had been thinking about this for some time...like he had to get it off his chest but not divulge too much about where he came from. Somehow he had to tell the truth for once. "Well, it's the bloke who killed my parents. He'd been after me for awhile, but he's dead now."

David was suddenly much more interested. "Seriously? Where you in witness protection or what?"

Harry laughed. "Oh, no, we thought he was dead long ago. I was just sent off to my awful aunt and uncle. The man, Tom, just wanted to kill off my whole family. Hes been after me for years, apparently. Ended up getting himself killed. I was just the one that got away."

"But, why?"

Harry jumped. Jackson was in earshot and had dipped his head in to hear the conversation. Clearly this was the most excitement they had heard in some time.

"He's got to be joking, Jacks, this is nuts!"

"Why would he want to kill a kid and your parents?"

Harry thought of how he could tell them without sounding like a bloody mob family. He supposed they sort of were. "Tom wasn't someone to mess with. My parents continued to fight back, and they paid for it. I don't really want to talk about it anymore."

"Oh, of course!" David stated, clearing his throat. "I just wanted to tell you that we don't want you moping in here, mad at us. You just seem depressed."

Harry allowed himself to shrug for the millionth time. "I usually am."

"Dave, he can't have a downer, not if we want the same thing to happen."

Harry joked to lighten the room. "You got something for depressed people?"

"Do I?" David exclaimed.

Harry found himself later that evening cracking open bottles of bad beer and having one of the best nights of his life. They stayed up late playing video games, taking lines of cocaine, and drinking. Harry admitted to himself that he never once thought of how much he missed his friends, and even when the depression of the last 7 years began to creep into his brain, he nudged it away with another hit. Harry was incredibly drunk, high, and happy, which was not unnoticed by his flatmates.

"Look at 'em, Jacks," David slurred, pointing the video game remote at Harry. "He's fucking happy. I didn't know he had it in him!"

"Oh, shut it!" Harry laughed, throwing his remote to the floor. He lost again.

"Hey, you're lucky we're not charging you for this!" David polished off his beer and threatened to take on Jackson at video game Harry horribly lost at. Jackson threw back the controller and laughed.

"No dammit, I have work at 11 tomorrow! And so do you!"

"Fine, Harry and I will stay up. He's not a cunt like you!" Jackson assaulted him with the couch cushions and tipped his hat in their direction.

"I'm out, and bloody keep it down!"

Harry watched him chuck is beer in the trash and disappear into the room. David only laughed. "He's the responsible one, if you can't tell! Want another hit?"

Harry felt the alcohol weighing his mood and was beginning to feel drowsy. "Nah, I've had enough."

"Good! More for me to sell."

Harry played one more round with David before crashing right there on the couch. In his dreams he was flying on a dragon—he soared over islands and through the clouds, and it was the best feeling in the world. The dream could have gone on forever and he would have never tired of it. It was his best sleep in months.

Harry awoke to a sound in the kitchen. He peered up and saw Jackson's blurry figure setting something into the microwave and pressing the time. The hum of the machine seemed to hurt his head, and he gazed around at his awkward place on the couch, and David crashed out on the floor.

"Morning, ladies," Jackson said. "Did you have yourself a slumber party?"

Harry yawned and managed to find his glasses. "Mhm, funny."

David moaned on the floor and moved onto his back. He didn't look too good.

The microwave went off and Jackson managed to shove a breakfast sandwich into his mouth, still piping hot.

"Bring us some tea, will you?" David muttered painfully.

"Hello no. I have to go or I'll be late. What are you doing today, Harry?"

Harry had winced at the sound the microwave made, and really was beginning to feel he was still drunk or had a horrible flu. "I think I am just going to stay in today."

"Same," David whined.

"Right, well, if you want to meet Daniel today, Harry, come visit us at the pub. Best time is around one."

Harry nodded and watched the man set a cigarette in his mouth and exit the door. Which reminded him. "I'm gonna go smoke. You staying in?"

"Yeah, mate. I'll be here awhile."

Harry himself felt awful. He couldn't decide if he needed to vomit or if the feeling was going to pass. "I'm going to get a ginger ale from the shop across the street. Need any smokes?"

"No, but gimme one of those ginger ales."

Harry wanted anything to help with the overwhelming nausea and pain in his head. He left the house and lit his cigarette. It was about to rain, so he moved quickly. Bloody hell, he had the best night since he won the House Cup at Hogwarts. He wished the feeling would have lasted until the morning, because all that was left was a deepening depression. That and the need to empty his stomach contents on the grass. He smiled at the expression on Hermione's face if she found out he had done cocaine and went on a bender. The thought made him laugh as he took another drag from his cigarette. Ron would be hilarious on it.

The shopkeeper was about to close up his work when Harry rounded the corner, but he spotted him. "Oh, hello, lad. If you need something I'll ring you up before I close for the day." He was a short round man with a thin white mustache. He always wore a brown corduroy suit with a black tie. Sometimes he spiced it up and put on a brown one.

"Thank, Ned. Where you going? Your shop closes at 6."

The man beamed and became incredibly excited. "Oh, it's my daughter, she's getting married! We have to be at Holy Trinity Church by 2:00. I am a happy man indeed!"

Harry wanted to congratulated him but the memory of Bill and Fleur's wedding disaster kept his mouth shut. What about his own marriage to Ginny? Probably never going to happen. "I'm glad, Ned. Just two of the ginger ales and you can be off on your way."

The man appeared to be dancing each step he made. Harry waved goodbye to the man and hopped back across Lambeth Walk. He felt awful, and it wasn't the hangover. He was angry at himself, and for everything that ruined his life. That should have been him and Ginny...they would have had a great life together. Harry downed part of the drink and then threw the rest against an alley wall, where it crashed into tiny pieces.

"Fuck it!" he screamed at no one in particular. He wished he was as happy as he was the night before. Now he wanted nothing to do with anyone, and resisted having to go back and give David his drink. Harry took another cigarette and lit it, tossing the match to the ground. After pacing for ten minutes he felt the anger drift away, and instead was replaced with resentment. He fucking hated himself, and wished he could just get over it and go back to the Weasleys. Why couldn't he just do it?

Harry returned home still flustered, and wanted to throw David his bottle, but the man was already asleep, still on the floor. Harry sighed and set it in the fridge and rushed to his room, trying very hard not to slam the door. Tears sprung into his eyes and he began punching his bed angrily, beating it until he was panting. He beat at his arms in frustration and hated the very sight of himself. He already knew it was going to be a very long day.

He woke up exhausted. The sun was beginning to peer from behind the clouds, and he wondered what time it was. His heart dropped—he was supposed to go to Queen's Head! Harry bolted up and threw open the door to see what the stove clock said. It was 12:17. He relaxed and noticed that David was not there. " _He must have dipped out to go to work"_ , he thought. Harry knew he had time and heated up some eggs and vegetables now that his body wanted to eat. He turned on the television but nothing was on...he supposed that was true around noon. After cramming his food, Harry took off southwest to meet Jackson at the pub. He had an idea where it was at, and it was not easy to miss with its blue framed building, but he was really getting cold. Damn, and he only had one jacket.

Harry arrived with a few minutes to spare, and opened the door for a couple to come in. He saw Jackson with the same fedora he always wore stacking glasses, oblivious to his presence. A young girl came out of nowhere and asked if he was waiting for a seat. Harry jumped. "Uh, no. I am here to meet with Jackson and Daniel."

"Oh, okay. I will get Daniel and you can go over to Jackson. We expect to pick up in an hour in case you want the specials."

Jackson had looked up briefly then focused on him completely. Harry took his wave as a sign to meet with him.

"So did David make it to work?"

"Um, yeah, I think so. I took a nap after going to the shop and he was gone."

"Good, he missed two days this month already due to all the 'fun' he has. He's lucky he works with his uncle."

Harry gazed at the walls of the pub and began smelling the glorious fried goods. It seemed to be a great place to hang out on a Friday night. "So, Daniel is your boss?"

Jackson nodded. "Well, a little more than that. My sister married his nephew. He got me a job...it works out."

"So you think he will get me one under the table?"

"At least until you get your documents from the registry. You can request everything since they were lost. Might take awhile."

A loud voice ended their conversation, and had Harry on alert. "Hey, Jacks, is that the kid you were talking about?"

"Yes, this is Harry."

Harry wondered what Jackson had said about him, but the man was scanning Harry like a piece of property. The man reminded him greatly of MadEye Moody.

"Right, well, are you a hard worker? Can I trust you not to break my shit?"

Harry put on his 'yes, uncle' face on and agreed to whatever the man said.

"Good! I am sure we will get along great, then...if we have no issues. Be on time, be quick, and don't dawdle with patrons. You are their busser, not their best mate."

"Yes, sir."

Jackson seemed to be enjoying Harry's discomfort. Harry assumed he was just happy it wasn't him.

"When do I start?"

"Monday...our slowest day. I am making sure you know what the hell your doing before hitting the rush. I'll put you on the same shift as Jackson."

They were disrupted when a group of business men arrived at the bar, boisterously laughing and calling for Jackson to start a tab. As his flatmate left, Harry was pulled aside by his new boss and he felt instantly anxious.

"Look, son. If you need anything...anything at all, just let me know." The man had softened his voice. Harry had a feeling that Jackson had told him everything. "Nothing gets away with it when I am here."

"Yes, sir. I will see you in a few days." He realized it was Friday. That meant the house was going to be bombarded with insane druggies and drunks. Harry wanted to hide already. Harry managed to shake the owner and waved a goodbye to Jackson. It was after two now, and with nothing else to do, Harry decided to take a stroll down the next street to window shop.


	11. Bad Water

**Sorry it's been awhile, but thanks again for following/favoriting/reviewing the story! It encourages me to keep writing more chapters! A lot of times I wish to get into more details, but with a full time job it's hard enough just to write on a consistent basis, so apologies for that. More for you to imagine!**

Harry tried his best to ignore the music and rowdiness of the party outside his door for about an hour and a half now. Bored of his book, he was now at his desk watching dusk fade away and sketching a picture of Hedwig flying over the Big Ben. Twice David knocked on his locked door and asked if he wanted to join the party, but he declined at once, taking his own alcoholic beverage alone to the room. He admitted that he was tempted to join the excitement, yet he felt far too awkward not knowing anyone, and too embarrassed he would have another panic attack. Over the music he heard laughing, shouting, and David egging on contests of shots or offering discounted 'merchandise'. He really was one for a bit of fun. Although his sketch of Hedwig was obviously a bunch of rubbish, he was pleased with his representation of her wings. He really did miss that damn bird, and was thinking about the first time he really got mail...the brand new Nimbus 2000 from Prof. McGonnagall. God, how long ago was that? Just for fun, he drew that too, clasped tightly into her claws. He knew he had been focusing a lot of detail in his drawings because the sun had faded, and all he could see through the window were the lights outside. Harry wanted to finish one more thing, yet as he began the outline for Buckbeak's body, he was disturbed by another knock at the door.

"Hey, Mate," it was Jackson's voice. "Quick word."

Harry sighed, yet happier that it wasn't David asking a third time for him to join them. He flipped his sketches over in embarrassment and moved to open the door. Jackson stood there, appearing tired, but holding something in his hand. Harry looked around and noticed that the party was dying out. Half the people from before where there still enjoying themselves, and some were obviously passed out onto the floor near the kitchen.

"Yeah?"

"Wondering if I could keep you company. It's much more quiet in here."

"I'm not that lonely, you don't need to worry about it."

Jackson smiled sheepishly. "Well, I suppose it's more for me than you."

Harry didn't blame him. After an awkward chuckle between the two of them, he let the man in. "Too much fun, then?"

Jackson rolled his eyes and sat against the wall. In his hand he had a deck of cards and an obvious bag of cocaine. "Honestly, I just get bored of it after awhile. It's hard to keep track of everyone and instead of having fun I am the one picking up all the vomit and stopping people from stealing David's drugs. All the ones I trust are still here. Now I am running away and seeing what you are up to."

Harry wished he had something interesting to say. "A bit of reading. I think I will bore you more."

Jackson took out the deck of cards and began shuffling them immediately. Harry didn't want to tell him that all he knew how to play was Go Fish. "Look, I am just trying find a sober person to talk to. However, I did bring some fun in case you felt like it."

Harry set himself on the floor in front of his flatmate and eyed the bag of cocaine, wondering if the man was offering. He was feeling pretty depressed at the moment thinking about his dead owl and godfather. "I don't know how to play cards."

"Never?"

"No, my cousin would pretend to start playing with me, then throw the cards in my face and force me to clean them up. It wasn't my idea of a game."

"Dolt. Well, why don't I teach you King's Corners?"

Harry brought down his glass of whiskey and sat himself again on the floor. He was brushed up on the rules...Kings obviously only allowed in the four corners, then numbers are brought down in reverse order and reverse colors. Harry thought he had a pretty good grasp on the game. He was feeling confident after a mouthful of his drink, and let Jackson go first. The feeling was warm. It was as if he were back with Ron playing Wizard's Chess on a free day at Hogwarts. Or that time when he and Hermione strung cranberries around the tree for the Christmas at the Weasely's. The two of them laughed about each other losing, and about how David was probably piss drunk and flopped on the floor again. Harry was granted his wish and Jackson began drawing lines for the both of them around mid-game. He began feeling more alive...he laughed some more...and he even began to tell of his old friends.

"My mate, Ron, loves chess. He always beats me. I lost so much money! He even beats the best players!"

Jackson smiled. "Well, tell him to come over and I'll challenge him!"

"Oh, well, he can't." Harry forgot about that...and the lie that he never went to school past the age of 11 he started telling a few days beforehand. "Haven't spoken to him in ages." Harry recently had to start thinking of reasons as to why he couldn't solve percentages while they went out shopping, or why he had no knowledge of Muggle schooling AT ALL. His story became wittled down to being in a far more abusive household than it was...and being what Harry called a human house elf doing 'home schooling'.

Jackson's face darkened. "Is that because your bloody relatives pulled you out?"

"Y..yes. I haven't seen him, but I am sure he's still holding his title. He and Hermione were always a pair, but she doesn't like chess. He would have lost ages ago if she had." Harry couldn't tell if it were the drugs or the alcohol, but he felt the need to tell Jackson all about the Weasley's. He spoke of how Ron's mother was always trying to make him one of her own...fretted about his peakiness, and how he had always thought of his mother being as wonderful as she was. Harry talked about the twins' jokes, the eldest brother working with exotic animals overseas, and how the boys had broken him free of the Dursley's for the rest of the summer when they were twelve. He even told of falling in love with Ginny. Harry realized he had spoken for a good amount of time and felt a long pause from his flatmate.

"Harry, mate, we can go look for them! I see that they mean a lot to you. Forget your aunt and uncle, they aren't around anymore."

"It's more complicated than that."

"Doesn't seem like it."

Harry took another line and coughed as the rush hit him. "They want to talk, I don't. They bring back bad memories."

"Harry, you idiot, you just spent 15 minutes talking about all of them! It couldn't have been that bad."

Harry shoved the rest of his whiskey down his throat and felt himself becoming more anxious, which was escalating after the high he was feeling. He couldn't focus on the game anymore.

"I don't know how to explain it to you, Jackson. I really don't. They remind me of my parents, and the insane man who killed them. I've endangered them so many times. One of them have died. I am NOT going back!"

Harry refused to look at the man's face, but he could feel the shock and disbelief. He almost wanted the man to hit him, he felt as though he deserved it. Instead, Jackson appeared to be thinking with an incredibly determined face. "So..your family, and your friends' family...they were both involved with the man who murdered your parents? The guy who tried to kill you?"

Harry felt hot tears begin to escape down his face, and he wiped them away immediately. "We made it, that's the end of it. I don't want to talk to them anymore."

Jackson finished the last of the cocaine and tossed the winning cards down onto the pile. There was a definite awkward pause.

"I don't know who you're running from anymore, Harry. Your relatives, your friends, or yourself?"

He didn't have an answer.

The party ended officially around 2am. After the turn of events that occurred in his room, Jackson had left, almost appearing disappointed. Harry couldn't sleep, or face either of his friends if he left the room. Following a quick run to the loo he shoved on a jacket with his cigarettes, stepped over three sleeping bodies, and opened the front door.

"Hey, Harry!" Jackson whispered. "Why you leaving?"

He didn't bother to lower his voice. "I need to get out of here."

Harry wasn't sure where he was going. All he knew was he was still on an aggressive high that was muddled with a heavy feeling in his chest from the alcohol. Why did he have to be so enraged with the fact that he wanted his friends as far away from him as possible? He repeatedly told himself if was for their own good. Ginny deserved better. The Wizarding world had their hero, and now he was just Harry. "Just Harry, just Harry," he muttered over and over. He desperately pulled a cigarette from his jacket and lit it quickly. After reaching farther down a few blocks he found himself at a small park. He continued to smoke and sulk angrily. Yes, he wanted to see his friends. Of course he did. A whisper came from his lips. "I just need to find me without them." The thought hurt his chest. They had always done things together. Every fight, every victory, was done with each other, no matter how he wanted to do it alone. He almost didn't want to fight it alone. He had to reach out to someone.

Harry pulled the cigarette from his mouth. "Kreacher!"

And with a POP, the elf appeared, clearly surprised by the call.

"OH, MASTER POTTER! YOU IS ALIVE!"

"Shhh! Quiet down, Kreacher."

Kreacher was trying ever so hard to do so, and instead broke down into sobs. "Oh, Master, Kreacher is so lonely! Kreacher tries hard to make sure the home is spotless for when Master Harry returns!"

"Kreacher, look,"

But the House Elf became distracted, he peered through the dim light of the park at his master's face and began to wail. "MASTER IS ILL! MASTER DOES NOT LOOK HIMSELF!"

Harry panicked. He could imagine what he might look like—eyes dilated from the drugs and swollen from crying. Not to mention days of insomnia. He had to get his elf under control before he woke the whole neighborhood.

"Kreacher! Stop it." The elf immediately became still, using his pouty eyes as a means to communicate his discomfort.

"Why has Master Harry called Kreacher?"

Harry sighed. "I don't know...just...tell them I'm okay. Tell them I miss them all, but I can't come home." Kreacher made a movement suggesting he was going to wail. "Don't say a word!" He froze as if a stopper was placed into his mouth. "I also need you to go into my vault tomorrow and bring me back 2,000 Galleons in Muggle money. Okay? Meet me at noon here. And do NOT tell them where I am."

Kreacher bowed. "Of course, Master Harry. It will be done."

Harry listened as the elf disappeared into the night. He realized how quiet it was, and it became soothing as his thoughts settled. They were going to hear that he was fine. He was going to tell them that he was still thinking of them. It was enough to force him to stand a few minutes later and head back home. He almost gotten himself lost, but he recognized the small shop down the road. He glanced up at the moon and thought of Remus Lupin. His son would be sleeping soundly in his crib, not even knowing that his father died a hero. The memories of Remus mad Harry smile slightly, and he forced himself to turn in. It was still silent inside the flat...the three bodies remained sleeping on the floor. It was the voice that startled him.

"Go to bed, Harry." Jackson said softly, sitting at the dining room table. "Just making sure you came home safe."

"Thanks..." he muttered quietly. "And, er, sorry about all that." Jackson said nothing as he himself returned to his room. Harry fell into bed, exhausted at this point, but still unable to sleep. His mind raced through all 6 years of Hogwarts and would not fade away. Finally, around half past five, his eyes drifted off and the world became a dream.

A rather odd pop sounded around the Burrow just before breakfast. Arthur Weasley became curious and turned to his wife, who had been setting magic to grade the cheese for the scrambled eggs. "Molly, dear, why has Percy decided to Apparate here? He knows the fireplace is open."

Molly turned to peer through the window to see her son's head, but did not see the familiar red hair. "I think you might've heard a garden gnome, perhaps? Haven't had the time to take care of them."

"Odd.." he shrugged and began making the coffee. Percy coming weekly definitely improved the mood of the family, and even Ron had embraced the idea after the older brother's ego had visibly faltered. Percy was now perfectly happy to be an average Ministry employee, and the only matter he gloated on was his mother's pot pie recipe that turned heads at his department's pot luck. Come to think of it...Percy was planning to come in two days...couldn't have been him.

George yawned loudly and brought Arthur out of his stupor. He glanced at his son briefly, who was now squinting to peer past the other side of the curtains. "Blimey, Dad, what is that ugly thing coming to the door? It looks familiar."

"What do you mean," asked Molly. "Is it a gnome?"

Arthur met up with George and immediately his eyes bulged open. "Kreacher! Molly, open the door!"

The poor woman gasped and abandoned everything in the kitchen. Before the little elf could raise his knobbly knuckles to the door, she threw it open. It appeared the elf suddenly felt exposed.

"Kreacher, what on earth are you doing here?"

Kreacher shuffled his feet humbly and refused to look at them. "Master Harry sent Kreacher to the red haired family to give a message."

Arthur rushed the meek elf into the home and bellowed loudly up the stairs for Ginny and Ron. It took less than two minutes to get them to the kitchen, where they both froze at the sight of the woeful creature.

Ron managed to get a word out. "What's he doing here? He doesn't just come over for the fun of it."

"Kreacher has a message from Master Harry." He could not have said it any more depressingly.

George gave a pitiful look. "From what I see it's not a good message."

Mrs. Weasley glared at her son and attempted to encourage the elf. "Now, go on darling. You can tell us."

"Master Harry says he misses the Wheezy family terribly, and hopes that all is well."

There was a drop of silence.

"Er..is that it?" asked George incredulously. Ron shrugged helplessly as their eyes met.

Ginny had enough of the 'news'. It was beginning to become very ridiculous."Kreacher, where is he? We have been waiting for months!"

The house elf squealed. "Kreacher cannot say! It was a dark place...a grassy dark place. Stunk of the bad river!"

"What is he talking about?" Ron asked, but no one said a word because the elf suddenly got on his knees and pleaded the family with his whole tiny heart.

"Please, Wheezy family! Master Harry does not look well, he's not the same master! You must find him!"

Immediately the entire family began speaking at once, asking questions, and ordering the elf around.

"Kreacher, tell us where he is!"

"What does that mean?"

"Spit it out!"

Arthur attempted his best to calm the storm that was erupting in their kitchen, and when he finally restored some peace, he himself rounded upon the poor elf.

"Look, Kreacher, Harry is trying to ask us for help. He is using you to make that connection. You _have_ to tell us where he is so we can help!"

The creature covered his eyes. "It was forbidden!"

Ron couldn't believe it. "What sort of trick is this? You come to us to tell us he misses us, then explains he's not looking good? You have to give us more than that!"

Ginny rounded on him. "He's only doing this because he was ordered to. Blame Harry on this, he is the only one being an arse!"

"Ginny!" her mother exclaimed. She was trying her best to ignore the wailing the elf was carrying on. "Harry is trying to reach out, that is obvious, but he is certainly in a position where he cannot do it."

Ginny turned to the elf, who was crying deeply. "Kreacher, what do you mean he's not the same? What is different?"

Kreacher stopped to think a moment, then upon realizing that he was not forbidden to make mention of what he had seen, responded to her softly. "Master is saddened by something Kreacher knows not. Master's eyes are not the same...as if he cannot sleep. Something is wrong and Kreacher does not know what!"

As the elf cried Arthur pried deeper. They were getting closer. "What river smells bad? Is he still in London?"

Kreacher seemed to have hit a stumbling block. He hit at his mouth, wanting to get the words out. "Smelled dizzy drinks and fire sticks! Air stunk of bad water!"

George sighed. "The elf's gone nuts."

"Kreacher must leave! Home needs tending to!" At once the house elf snapped his fingers and left the home with another pop, and left the Weasley family with their mouths open.

Ginny was the first one to speak. "I'm done with this! We need to start looking again. He's obviously near water!"

"That could be any river in the world!" Ron retorted. "Good luck with that task!"

Molly interrupted before either could fight back. "Enough, the both of you. We are closing to getting Harry back already. This is the first time he has seeked us out personally. We will take this information and go on about our day, starting with breakfast!"

"Yes, and I will inform Kinglsey in the morning"

Ron paused after his Dad spoke and asked, "What on earth is a dizzy drink and a fire stick?"

Ginny huffed, remembering the night Harry stood her up. "Alcohol. I have no idea what he meant by a fire stick."

Mrs. Weasley's heart melted, which was very visible, and to press on through the silence, she instantly ordered the family to the table. "Everyone eat everything off their plate! We will take care of all of this after a good meal!" There was a resounding sigh, but as they placed themselves at the table, there appeared to be a stronger force in the back of their minds. Harry was alive, waiting and wanting to be found, but he was not leaving any clues to do so. It was definitely a challenge to accept.


	12. Regrets

**I am almost thinking about changing the story to M after this, but I think it is safe enough to keep it as T-ish. Thanks for continuing to read and keep reviewing!**

The upcoming weeks appeared in a blur to Harry. He started his new job at the pub easily, which his boss Daniel was pleased about, and he allowed Jackson to walk beside him after their late argument. Harry was relieved at the fact his friend forgave the matter, and treated him with more unusual concern. He realized that he was not his normal self, but discovering who the new Harry was became ever more exhausting. He began to toy with the idea of finding the familiar within the new. Harry thought about this often now, especially when the work was slow. He had the temptation to bring his friends to his new place and be able to do things with them again. They would avoid Diagon Alley, and the Burrow specifically, and just when he felt the urge to call for Kreacher again, his mind quickly squashed the idea. What was he terrified of? To amuse himself he imagined each patron's life as he watched them eat and drink, and wondered if this is really what Tom at the Leaky Cauldron did for all those years. Jackson had a big heart, Harry realized, and when he wasn't fending young women off from slopping men, he was listening to people's stories. Harry was realizing now why it was so easy to speak to him about anything, and it was a comforting thought. On a dull Friday afternoon, Harry watched as the remaining four lunch hour persons left. He pulled the tub to the table and began cleaning, keeping an eye on Jackson. The man was wrapping silverware.

"Hey, Jacks, I have a hypothetical for you."

"Hmn.."

"If you could start over, for whatever reason, what would you do? And where would you go?"

Jackson did not look up from what he was doing, but it did not take long for him to answer. "I would have gone to the university and done photography. I don't really want to be anywhere else."

Harry was surprised. "I didn't know you liked taking pictures."

This time the man looked up and pointed a spoon at him. "Pictures are what you take when you're on Holiday. I am talking about portrait photography. The kind that tells a story with one shot."

"Oh, well, why didn't you, then?"

Jackson muted himself for a moment. "Dad died when I was seventeen. Mum needed help to keep things going, especially with Nan in the house. She was too old to be moving around. So I worked, barely made it out of school, and never got the chance. I really thought it would just be a few years, but here I am."

"What about your brother?"

"He was a mess back then. Good for nothing at all. He finally smartened up and is helping Mum when he can. She says I'm not allowed to help anymore."

"Would you go back to the university now?"

A sound at the door turned their heads, and young family of three entered the establishment. The mother was carrying a very fussy baby. They did not appear to be the type that would eat in a pub.

"Dining area, just through the hall there, Shelley will assist you." Jackson stated helpfully. Harry watched them go, feeling very sorry for the mother, but was very interested in what Jackson had to say.

"Would I go?" he asked. "Not sure anymore. Last year I saved up and purchased the best camera for the money. See all the portraits on the bar walls? Those are mine."

And suddenly Harry did notice. Earlier he had dismissed them as replicas of another photographers art, but it was Jacksons! They were all in black and white- a close up portrait of a pigeon, a child covering her eyes from the sun, and an old man grasping a balloon on a string waiting for the bus. And Jackson was right, they all had a story, even the bird.

"They're amazing! I think you should do it."

Jackson half halfheartedly shrugged. "Daniel says so too, which is why he has them up in his pub. I suppose I am afraid of my work losing it's meaning when I am forced to do it. Why do you think so many composers failed at the end of their prime? They spent more time working for someone else rather than doing what they loved at their own time. I am more afraid of that then the cost of the schooling."

Harry thought about what to say. There was some truth to what he said, but there had to be some sort of solution. "Maybe start now with your material, then by the time you are in school, you will already have the art done. It's as if the meaning hasn't changed, just when you make it public."

Jackson nodded briefly. Harry finished stalling his work and dumped the dirty dishes near the wash. He seated himself at the bar and began rolling silverware with his friend. For awhile all they heard was laughter from the hall and music from the televisions.

"Well?" Jackson asked.

"What?"

"I assume you are already changing your life since you asked me the question, but what did you want to be before you left? Tell me it's not photography, or card playing."

Harry stifled a weak laugh. How would he explain an Auror? "Well, I suppose I wanted to be like a detective or an officer. I was always trying to protect my friends, and I never listened when adults told me to not get involved. I got screwed over by that, but I couldn't help it."

Jackson nodded. "I could see that being something you would do. But it seems more like you're avoiding it like me."

"Yeah, well, I don't wish to be reminded of everything I left when I go to work. I don't want to fail at helping people again, or be the reason why people die."

Their conversation fell silent for a moment, but Jackson never stopped what he was doing. He continued to pile silverware as he kept to himself for a short time. Harry felt his shoulders sag at the response. "Whatever happened where you cam from, mate, you can't run away from. You need to talk about it, and to the right people. Otherwise you will just turn into a remorseful old man that will be a photograph on a wall. And your picture will just cause people to say, 'look, that man appears to have lost so much' and it will all be told from your face."

Harry felt himself squeezing the napkins harder than he intended. Jackson's words struck a strong chord in his heart and refused to look into the man's eyes. "I'll just lose control. I am avoiding it to keep myself from falling apart, and honestly, yes, I do have regrets about leaving."

"Then go back."

"No!" Harry retorted, louder than he wanted to.

"Then talk about it to someone."

He rolled his eyes, "Fine, I am talking to you."

"Harry, you know what I mean. Someone qualified to work things out with you."

"I'm not going to pay someone to tell me what I already know. Or if they will even believe me!"

Jackson watched as a few of the dockworkers came in after their shift. They were heading towards the bar. "People will believe anything they hear. Do it before you turn into a lonely portrait on a wall, or dried up and wasted like David."

Harry had to move himself so the group could set themselves against the bar, and he left to pretend to wash the tables. Jackson's words chilled him, but what could he do? He felt as though bridges of his past had already been burned.

"We're going to a party tonight in Newington," said David after both Harry and Jackson returned from work. It seemed David had gotten off early and was enjoying some afternoon television.

"Um, okay..." Harry replied cautiously. "What the hell is out in Newington?"

Jackson sighed and went to the bedroom to change after smelling of old potatoes and beer. Harry could do with a change himself as he had remnants of butter smeared along his forearm from cleaning.

"Jackson doesn't like my friends out by the university. They are a different breed of party animals."

"So, can I just stay here?"

David rolled his eyes. "Embrace the fun, Harry. You're miserable enough on your own, why don't you enjoy yourself?"

"I can do that here. Plus I am saving up to buy a phone," he lied. "Bussing tables and paying $300 a month in rent doesn't work itself out on it's own."

David grinned cheekily and added, "Don't forget the 80 cash you still owe me for your recreational drugs!"

Harry laughed before shutting his door, "Yeah, right, those were on you!"

"WAS NOT!"

David's voice was muffled through the door and Harry continued to smile as he changed his shirt. He failed to wash his clothes the week prior and had to keep the same jeans he work in. The shirt on the other hand...

"Hey," he yelled through the door. "What kind of party is this, business or casual?"

David laughed, "What do you think?"

Casual it was then. He picked a plain blue V neck and called it that. Now it was time to attack the hair. Harry could hear Jackson open the door to the other bedroom and complain.

"Dammit, David, you know how I hate impromptu parties. I just want to relax after work."

Harry opened the door and sat on the couch, watching the two argue.

"You ARE going to relax. Besides, I heard Olivia is going to be there!"

Jackson quieted a moment before muttering a reply. "I don't know how she is friends with Quincy and all those idiots. You'd think a girl like her would be with the introverted art students."

Harry interrupted. "Don't mean to be stupid, but where is Newinton?"

Jackson replied, "Not far. It's off the station and near the university. These guys are usually Interdisciplinary Studies majors who really have no idea what degree they want."

"What does Olivia do?"

David giggled. "Yeah, Jacks, tell him what she does, you know all about her!"

Harry could see a hint of pink splash the man's face. "Teaches ballet to kids. She's a dance major and plans to do choreography it at Saddler's Wells Theatre."

David couldn't help himself. "Near the Spa Garden where they will take long romantic walks."

With a loud clap Jackson's hand struck David's head, which didn't stop the bouts of laughter. Harry grinned. It was just as funny as Lavender Brown calling Ron 'Won Won'. Then he remembered she died and his grin fell away. Dammit!

David turned his attention to Harry, which made his stomach turn. "Mate! Do something about that hair, seriously! That's how it is supposed to look post party!"

"It is what it is."

It wasn't a good enough excuse, and after David had grabbed his bottle of styling gel and rubbed it through Harry's hair, it really was a done deal that he was a hopeless case. Harry did admit though, that it perhaps made him slightly more groomed and a bit handsome. After about ten minutes more of complaining, Jackson, David and Harry were cologned, styled, and loaded with contraband David hoped to sell for a hefty profit. They made a pit stop at Ned's shop for snacks, and Harry found himself relatively excited.

"How do you know these people?" Harry asked while they were riding towards the Elephant and Castle stop.

It was Jackson's turn. "Yes, David, why don't you tell him?"

He had a smug look on his face. "Sort of dropped out of economics. Thought I wanted to do it for a living but I was just doing what my Dad wanted. Got caught up selling this stuff like hotcakes and found that much more rewarding. It's too bad though, this is the last quarter they will be attending classes. Where else do I leave my legacy?"

Harry snorted. He moved over to let a man sit next to him, as the afternoon rush hit the train car. Others were forced to stand. Harry felt the hairs on his neck stand up...a feeling he didn't have in quite some time. On alert, he scanned the crowd, wishing he had actually done what Kingsley had told him and got another wand. What an idiot, he thought. It took him some time, but there, hidden behind a woman's frame, was the familiar blonde hair he learned to hate. Harry couldn't believe it. It had to be a hallucination. His stomach clenched, and as his eyes locked onto Draco's, it became apparent that neither of them knew what to do. Was he there the entire time? Draco's appearance was more curious than anything...his black pants and shirt were more worn, and his face much more tired. The only similarity was his slicked back blonde hair, iconic as ever. Harry noticed, too, a bewitched ring around the man's wrist. He had seen that before...Arthur had mentioned something about it as the Ministry's manner in surveillance. Harry gave him a look as if to say, "don't say anything," hoping he got the message. He felt a nudge beside him.

"Did you hear what I said," asked David.

He managed to tear his eyes away from Draco. "Er, no."

"Did you bring cash?"

"A bit."

"Well, count it. I don't trust some of these drunk kids." David's voice seemed to fade away, and as he heard their stop echo through to compartment, Draco's stare followed him as he stood up to exit to the platform. The man's eyes were slightly concerned, which was odd, and just like that, the doors shut and the train went on its way. Harry became terrified. He just crossed paths with a possible leak into the Wizarding World, and if Draco knew what was best for him, he'd think twice about saying anything to anyone. At least that is what the angry part of him said. The softer part ached for the familiar, and that was exactly what Draco was...a glimpse into the known. Just where was he going anyway, and on a Muggle train?

Harry was still shaken from seeing his old enemy as they walked toward the neighborhoods near the university. Jackson asked if he felt okay and he mumbled a quick response. Alcohol and David's cocktail of drugs sounded more enticing almost immediately.

"Well," David remarked. "Whatever it is, get over it, because we're here."

Harry knew it before he said anything. A semi-detached home was teeming with noise and laughter. A couple were already snogging near the front door.

"Perfect." Muttered Jackson.

Harry made sure to stay close to Jackson and David as much as possible during the night. One of the girl's who lived there was doing her best to replenish the alcohol and food, and is seemed they were gone in almost an instant. Her black hair swished in its ponytail as she struggled to keep things organized. David was bringing Harry all sorts of beverages, and between that and the lines of cocaine he got from him, he had already forgotten about Draco. Jackson had gone off out back to be with Olivia, and he could see what the man saw in her. She smiled shyly with her reddish hair curling around her face. They bounced when she laughed. David didn't stop grinning.

Harry, an hour in, already had to use the loo. He waited for a girl to stumble out, and found solace with the muted silence. The music or the drinks were making his head hurt. He felt light, and after he was done washing his hands, he struggled to open the door.

"Oh, sorry!" It was the girl who was attempting to do damage control with the food and drinks. "I was trying to come in while you were going out!"

"It's all right. Thought I locked myself in."

She giggled. Harry felt awkward and moved aside.

"You with David playing cards at the table?" she asked. Harry nodded and looked over at David and the group of young adults playing War. Wow, they were drunk.

"Mind if I join you guys? My flatmate is already close to passing out right now. Had to put her in bed."

"Uh, sure." He didn't know what else to tell her. David was already calling him over, and he gladly followed. As soon as he sat down his friend was already speaking into his ear.

"Mate, if you can avoid it, stay away from that one. She's a train wreck."

Harry sighed. "You're joking, she asked if she could come over and I told her it was okay."

"Fucking hell, mate!"

"What was I suppose to say, 'hell no'? What's so bad about her anyway."

"From what I hear she uses everyone for everything. She keeps telling me she will pay me back for the damn MJ I gave her five months ago. She's late on her rent on purpose just to make Denice sweat a little. She even tried to cry all up on Jackson one time because he refused to take her drunk arse home the last time. Not worth it."

Harry regretted his decision, but it was already done, and they watched her leave the bathroom and make way in their direction. David took another large gulp of his beer.

Harry moved over so the girl could sit down on the bench where they were playing, and she sat, a little too close, and smiled at him. "Hi, I'm Sidney." Everyone at the table smiled meekly. They already knew who she was.

"Hi, I'm Harry."

Sidney held her hand out to shake his and he did so awkwardly.

"Don't tell me you live with this man," she said pointedly over at David. "I saw you two come in together."

David flashed a sarcastic smile. "Yes, AND he pays the rent!"

There were snickers across the table and Sidney's eyes darkened. "I do feel terrible for you, Harry. David can be quite a handful."

David didn't take a break from playing the card game. He was on a winning streak. "Oh, don't spill your drink, love."

Harry attempted to ignore the hostility and finished off his drink quickly. Already he could feel the drugs wearing off. David wasn't selling as many as he had hoped for, but the occasional customer came and went, and even came back within the hour. At the table, everyone was high on something, and Harry felt himself feel drifted away at times with the smells and alcohol.

Sidney was still trying to egg on the conversation. "David, I've got twenty with me. I'll take whatever."

David didn't miss a beat. "When I see the cash you'll get it, love."

The girl instantly tightened. "Not with that attitude."

Harry felt himself shrink between the two of them, and instead he spoke up to play, hoping it would give him something to focus on rather than the building tension. War was a game that he was actually good at, although purely on luck. Sidney attempted small talk but he replied in short sentences, avoiding any prolonged conversations. It wasn't that he didn't like her, but as hour went by, she was only getting closer and far more handsy. David managed to follow bro code and called the game quits for the two of them.

"Let's get some air and have a cigarette, Harry. I need to sell more of this shit."

Sidney seemed disappointed as Harry and David moved from the table and out the back. The cool air felt amazing on what he could feel on his face. Jackson and Olivia seemed to be hidden in a corner.

"Dear, God," David moaned. "That tart doesn't know when to stop."

Harry took a cigarette from his friend's hand and waited for it to burn. It felt a relief to be out there.

"I don't even feel the drugs anymore," he laughed.

David shrugged. "Coke's something you need to keep taking, otherwise it's a tease. We can do it again here, hang on."

David took off his backpack and dug around. Harry had to admit he was very organized. Harry continued to take drags of his cigarette as the party raged on, trying to take a moment to himself as he did in the bathroom. He was already wishing to be drunkenly collapsed into his bed.

"All right, well, are you willing to pay the amount added in next month's rent? I've only got six bags left."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, that's fine."

"JACKSON, WANT SOME?" David yelled.

A muffled 'no' echoed from the corner of the yard.

David giggled again.

Harry waited as his friend got it ready, and with mocked '1, 2, 3' from David, they took the line at the same time. Harry wanted to sneeze every single time he did it.

"Whew!" David exclaimed. "All right! That's better, yeah?"

Harry felt excited and laughed. " Now we just need about eight more of those."

"Harry, I am moving towards the food table at this point. If someone ate the last biscuit I am going to throw a chair. I saw Eric hoarding the lot."

Harry didn't mind being separated from his flatmates at this point. Sidney was gone and he got himself a new drink. The friends he made at the card table welcomed him back and he spent the next hour losing and shouting with the others as the winner laughed at them all.

It took about another forty five minutes before the bodies started slumping to the floor, and people were unable to wait for the bathroom to vomit. Harry felt very close to this, but he slammed a water down to hope that the feeling would go away. The room was getting very hazy. Harry went back over to the loo to see if it was occupied, and he felt disappointed when he saw the light on underneath the door. God, he hoped they were not doing anything else but relieving themselves in it. The feeling came suddenly, and Harry became confused as a hand wrapped itself around his stomach. He looked down and saw Sidney smiling at him, and he cringed slightly, hoping it was a misinterpretation. She definitely had a slumping demeanor to her.

"Harry," she said quietly. He had to bend down to hear her. "Take me to my bed, I'm tired." She was very wobbly, and his head was throbbing enough to want to escape the hall. He was legitimately concerned she was going to vomit right then and there.

He looked frantically for his friends but couldn't see them. "Er, which is yours?"

"It has an "S" on it, silly."

Well, she was right. Upon dragging her down the hall he saw a closed door with a purple S taped on it. She was muttering the whole way down. "These stupid shoes hurt my feet, why do I even wear them?" Before she got to the door she kicked them off. Harry helped her near the bed, which was conveniently near the door in case she fell.

"What time is it?" she asked.

Harry looked around in the dark and saw her digital clock glowing blue. "1:15"

Sidney appeared saddened. "Aw, I lasted longer last time. You think it was the rum and coke that did me in?" She laughed and he did too, hesitantly. He was about to go when she pulled him back and embraced him. "Please don't leave me, I don't want to be alone."

Harry attempted to pull her hands away from his back but she only let go an arm to shut the door. "Sidney, I can't, you're drunk."

"We both are."

"Doesn't matter." He was feeling nervous. She was practically pushing herself into him, and he was pinned up against the door.

"You're cute, you know." she whispered. "You're much nicer than that David." Her hands roamed his body now, and he shuddered when she touched his groin. Her lips played against his neck and he heard her whisper moans in his ear. Harry couldn't move, and he was unsure if it were the combination of drugs and alcohol, or fear. It was definitely all three. Sidney continued to play with him, kiss his neck, and he felt himself grow hard in her hands. It was all she needed. Sidney's mouth met his, and he found himself on his back on the bed. She was smothering and grinding against him.

"Sidney," he managed to gasp. "Stop, we can't do this."

Sidney's face had a drunken smile. "That's not what he's telling me." She grabbed his erection and Harry groaned. He was dazed and high, and before he realized it, she had his jeans unbuttoned. Harry wanted to kick her off of him, but she was right. It felt fucking amazing, and when they were down to nothing but their bare skin, Harry lost himself completely. She felt good, and he kissed her passionately. It wasn't until they were finished and she had passed out in the bed did he rush to open the window and vomit in the bushes.

What the hell did he just do?


	13. Meltdown

**Sorry this one is a bit shorter than the rest, and ended quickly. I have been busy and have not posted any chapters recently for you all, so here is a teaser and cliffhanger for you! PLEASE REVIEW! I see people following and favoriting my story but haven't had any reviews since March. They are much appreciated to encourage me to write (at least the nice reviews!)**

Harry couldn't focus on anything but getting out of that house. He stumbled out the door and down the hall, not even caring that he left the girl alone in the room. He saw David at the table playing cards again, and he roughly grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Come on, we're leaving!"

David appeared very alarmed. "Er, what? Why? What's wrong?"

"Shut up and let's go!" Harry stormed off to the back door and called for Jackson. Harry's head buzzed, and he grew more and more frustrated at how long it was taking them to leave the party. Jackson came running corner and had the same face as David.

"We aren't going to stay over?" Jackson asked David quietly.

Harry heard him. "No! You can stay but I'm going home."

"Mate, what happened?"

Harry ignored them both. He said nothing as they boarded the train. He didn't say a word as they left and approached Lambeth Walk. Not a phrase was uttered as the key to the door was pulled out...but all anyone could hear was Harry's breathing. It was rapid, angry, even erratic at times. No one dared to say anything.

Harry could feel their eyes digging into his back, but he tossed them aside as the self hate fueled his rage. He wanted to destroy everything in his room, but just as he entered the feeling of becoming trapped consumed his heart. He couldn't stay. Harry grabbed the last pack of cigarettes from his desk and bolted out towards the front door.

Jackson put himself between the him and the way out. "Calm the fuck down and tell us what happened!"

"Jacks, just let him go."

"Get out of the way!" He attempted to push Jackson away, but the man refused.

"I do not want you out there acting like this!"

Harry balled up his fists tightly, fighting ever so hard not to hit his friend. "You're not my Mum, Jacks! Get the fuck out of the way and let me out."

"Yeah, well, you know what? She would say the same damn thing. You're not leaving."

The fact that his friend cared for him deeply was not in Harry's mind. All he felt was a deep sense of self loathing, bitterness, humiliation, and all he could do to escape it was to run. The two fought at the door, and David tried his best to step in and break them up and yelling at the both of them. Jackson hit the back of Harry's knee and he felt himself buckle to the ground with the man pinning his arm to his back. Harry screamed in rage. Almost in a fit of survival, his strength returned as his elbow reached back and collided with Jackson's face. He felt the man fall back as he grunted in pain. Harry immediately kicked him back and bolted for the unlocked door. The last thing he heard was David's voice call out after him, but he did not bother to hear what he had said.

The darkness was getting colder but Harry could only run faster. He screamed as he bolted down the streets and down the industrial sites near the Thames. Without stopping he scaled a chain-link fence and ran to an abandoned building. Harry, with tears dripping down his face, grabbed the brick rubble and threw it at the dusted windows. He made it his goal to break apart every piece. The larger pieces he threw against the wall. Harry hated himself then more than he ever had before. He had completely ruined the very thing he felt important enough to hang on to. It was his commitment to Ginny, his hopes to return and love her one day, and it was the only thing of his that wasn't taken away from him. Until now...and he fucking did it to himself. There was nothing left of him that remained untouched...pure...or held with great worth. The dreaded feeling of emptiness filled his heart, and Harry collapsed on the ground heavily. The terrible thoughts came back. They had plagued his mind more than once in his life, and far too often. He wanted to waste away. He wanted to fall away from the world and never look back. He did not give a damn about his life anymore.

The thought scared him at first...but it was a self assurance that this time it was something he might be ready for. Just as it had been when he came out of Snape's memories in the pensieve. Harry sat and looked over toward the river and watched the city lights shimmer as his thoughts became darker. The desire to die left him foolish, perhaps, but his heart was tired. His will was depleted after years of caring. It was now just him and the darkness, and nothing else seemed to matter. The tears dropped down without any effort. He felt nothing.

A train rattled by, and it brought brief comfort to him...as if he were safe but for a moment. Harry laid back and stared at the stars, blurry through his teary vision, but a sound forced him to sit back up. It was a vehicle. Harry assumed it was Jackson and David driving by to seek him out, and he sat there in defeat. 'Might as well go back to wasting my life.' he thought miserably. He didn't bother to even look at the car that pulled up behind the fence and put a torch light in his direction.

His interest peaked as he was exposed, then he felt a tightening in his stomach as a voice echoed from the vehicle. "You there, this is police, what you doing out here?"

Harry felt panic rise into his chest and his heart sped up. He couldn't say anything. Instead he ran. Harry burst through what was left of the door in the building and raced through the dark. Shouts from the police echoed against the brick, and he could hear them scaling the fence. Alarmed, he knew they had made it in a second and were following him close. Harry managed to reach a half-hinged door on the other side, but it would not unlock. He was shaking, but no matter how hard to tried to kick and push the door, it was utterly useless. Harry hit at it in frustration, hurting his hand...then suddenly, an audible click came from the keylock. It had opened on its own. Harry groaned inwardly about the accidental magic and fled toward the street. The officers were gaining.

"Harry, stop!"

He looked back in fear, thinking in some wild turn of events it was someone from the Ministry. But no, they were definitely Muggles. It did not make him any less terrified, and through the dim light he was forced to make blind turns to head back to the main road. He had to shake them.

It did not last long.

Harry became cornered in against a fence and the police. He could not see what they were threatening him with, but he didn't care. They were all gasping for breath.

He picked up a rock and threw it at them and screamed, "Just fucking kill me! I don't care anymore!"

Harry found another stone and aimed it in their direction. A man reacted in pain, and he thought for sure he was going to die for this.

"Son, calm down," a voice on the left replied softly. "We are not going to kill you."

"It doesn't fucking matter! I don't want to be here anymore!" Harry's mind went wild, and he turned to face the fence and climb it. He was going to leap into the Thames whether it killed him or not.

He bolted up the fence but the officers seized his body and dragged him down. They attempted to pin his chest to the ground but he fought them as hard as he could. Harry landed a punch to one of the officer's head, he landed another, and just as he was going in for a third, a thick arm wrapped around his throat. Instinctively, Harry let go and gasped for air as he was forced to allow both the men to hold him to the gravel and handcuff him. It was over, just like that, and all Harry could do was continue to weep.

The men were panting, but their voices were of concern. "Son, we're here because of a domestic dispute and obvious trespassing. From your recent statements, however, you run yourself in a different sort of trouble. Not to mention assault of an officer and resisting arrest. We are taking you to the precinct."

All Harry could do was allow himself to be dragged to the car. His life couldn't get any worse.

/

Kingsley Shacklebolt sighed heavily as he lay down a letter from the Auror department. It had arrived at his desk precisely the moment he appeared for work that morning, and he was surprised to find it addressed from a gentleman he trusted Harry's affairs in. He had seized it immediately and noted that the findings were of a few days prior. Upon reading the short letter Kingsley's heart fell at the words... _'there was no sign of Potter, or anyone for that matter at the location. Just abandoned buildings near the Thames."_

The Thames...he knew that was meant to be the answer to something preceding the discovery of Harry's magic resurfacing. All he could associate was Mr. Arthur Weasley, and he was forced to once again call the man to his office, noting ' _with vigor'_ in the memo. Lana, at this point, practically let the man in without asking why he was there.

"Come in, Arthur,"

"Yes, Miss"

Kingsley escorted the gentleman to the sitting area, and presented him with the letter.

"What does this say to you, about the Thames? It means something but I cannot place it."

Arthur held the paper with a hopeful glaze in his eyes, but he too appeared troubled. "I do know, Kingsley. Does this have something to do with what that Malfoy boy told you? About seeing Harry?"

"No that was on the rail, at a stop south of city centre. Which, I suppose, was south of the river. He was in the company of two Muggles, it had appeared, but what I mean is, it was something that you told me prior. As soon as I read this I had you in my mind."

Arthur couldn't say.

Kingley walked to his desk and withdrew a Muggle map of London, pinpointed with rail stops and high profile buildings. Arthur watched curiously as it was placed on the Minister's desk for their inspection, and Kingsley took out his quill.

"Look here, these two stops...that is where Draco Malfoy saw Harry get on and off. It was dark, so they had to be returning home, do you think?"

Arthur paused a moment after Kingsley's words. They boys had traveled east, away from the Thames, and for the first time in a long while,a feeling of bottled excitement exploded in his chest.

"The river, Kingsley! They were leaving home and traveling elsewhere, I swear it! That is what Kreacher had meant...that he found Harry near the 'bad water'. He was talking about the Thames!"

The Minister read the letter again, then scratched the quill at the approximate location of where Harry's magic had alerted them. "He has to be in this area, Arthur," he stated as a circle was drawn around the entire space. "I will send my men out to search. This is the closest to found that we are going to have for right now."

Arthur Weasley could accept that. "I trust your men entirely. I will tell my family the news, and thank you!"

Kingsley grasped the man's hand and smiled, "As always, Arthur. Good day to you."

Both men could have leaped into the air if it were not for their pride.


	14. Jail

**Thank you so much to those who reviewed! This chapter is for you!**

The cell Harry was in had a bunk bed for two, but he was placed there alone since he had arrived the day before. He was still in a bad mood over the whole incident that left him flabbergasted at how much catastrophe occurred withing the past day—which was not alleviated by the fact he was followed absolutely everywhere. Every waking minute the same foul faced officer sat outside the bars, and he even followed him while he went to perform interviews with more officers. It was becoming very irritating.

He was pulled for interview around 10:00am that morning, followed by the man and another officer. The office was buzzing with activity, which overwhelmed him for a moment, yet he calmed as they were led to a more quiet hall. The handcuffs were too tight and Harry wanted to complain about it, but he was afraid he would just be laughed at.

"All right, lad, in you go." The officer unlocked and opened interview room 7, and he could see back of the head of a brown haired gentlemen, which he got a better glance of as he was instructed to sit. For the first time since he got there, the angry looking man disappeared. It was just the two of them.

"So, Harry," the middle aged man said cheerfully as he took hold of his pen. "I certainly hope you are holding out well since your arrest, yes?"

Harry shrugged. "I suppose so."

"My name is Nathan Maine and I am a detective here at the station. I just wanted to go over some questions with you. Primarily about the original call that came in to police. Can you tell me about that?"

"I hit my friend." Harry stated simply.

Maine gestured as if to say 'yes, well,' but Harry did not know what else to say about it.

"Mr. Potter, your friend's, aside from the scuffle the three of you had, were more concerned about your safety. Now, we have to mark that as assault, however. Neighbors also made a call in."

Harry grew angry. "I didn't mean it."

"Understood, but that is what the call insisted, and all agree there was a fight, but your friends are not going to press charges. This is just going into your record, and honestly, doesn't look good in front of a Judge."

A strong feeling of fear forced Harry to tense his muscles. A Judge? Sympathetically, Detective Maine cast a supportive face at Harry, but it did not matter.

"Why do I need a Judge? They are not going to press charges!"

The man sighed. "Let's get back to the part about the fight, first. What happened? They both explained that you were behaving erratically."

Harry felt himself starring off into space, yet still feeling the rage from the night before. How exactly could he explain all of this? He shrugged.

Maine continued to press the conversation he seemingly already knew the answers to. "You three were at a party, yes? There was drugs and alcohol, both of which you consumed, but nothing was enough to send you over the edge. Something happened."

"I don't want to talk about it!" he almost shouted.

The man appeared not at all phased by his words. "Harry, we know what occurs at parties where young minds get together...drinking, daring each other to do ridiculous things...any of which caused your episode?"

"None."

"What about a female?"

Harry's eyes moved from the table to the man's concerned face. "I didn't rape anyone if that's what you're trying to say." His anger was seething.

Detective Maine scribbled some notes and went on, "Your friends had concerns about one girl in particular. What happened with her, anything?"

Harry tried his best to steady his leg but his anxiety forced it to shake nervously. Why was the man trying to trap him into a corner?

"Who says it's about her at all? Did my friends say that too?"

"It was reported that you could not be found, then moments later you resurface, angry and hostile. I need to understand the cause of this, Harry, to strengthen your case with the Judge."

"None of it matters!"

"It does with a charge of assault of an officer, Harry."

Immediately felt the familiar hatred of himself boil over, and he slammed his handcuffs on the metal table again and again, growling in rage. In a second, two more officers entered the room and forced his arms to the table. Harry wanted to scream at them, kick their bodies, but the larger officer appeared to have sensed that and barricaded him to the table.

Nathan Maine hadn't moved at all.

"Harry, calm yourself and refrain from hurting yourself or these officers. I wouldn't want you to add another count to the charge."

He was shoved back into the chair and Harry could feel his face burning red. He could not just run away this time.

"Can you handle him now, sir?

Maine asked him, "Are you able to control yourself, Harry? We still need to go over some other matters."

"Whatever, yeah."

The men pulled up their belts and filed out of the room, leaving Harry alone with the detective as before. This time, Maine changed tactics.

"Your story, son, is very interesting. At least what your friends could describe. Running away from abuse, a murderer, you sure have the worse of luck, don't you think?"

Harry could not tell if the man was condescending him or not. "I think I would know."

He was given another sympathetic smile. "As I had checked. Your parents are dead, yet I could only find the birth certificate of your mother. Count of their death in an article. You were sent to your aunt and uncle's with no formal guardianship established, so they had to go to the courts to do so themselves. Odd, don't you think? Someone just leaves you there?"

Harry's anger forced him to stay silent. He watched the man carefully, mustering all he could to not slip into whatever trap the man was baiting him for.

"There are records of you in primary school, but then, quit suddenly, you disappear from all academic record. Surely your aunt and uncle educated you?"

"Why don't you ask them?" he managed to say.

Maine agreed. "They are my next task for tomorrow. Your aunt seemed extremely curious as to how we managed to get in touch with her, and of course, why."

Harry closed his eyes and groaned inwardly. Just what he needed...the Dursley's laughing up a storm about him getting arrested. "Why did you even bother to contact them? I am not a minor, and I have not lived with them in almost two years."

The man laughed. "I suppose it was more of a curiosity, Harry. Looking into your background is an enormous puzzle. Fascinating and full of questions. Naturally, I like to solve problems...but yours-" he paused. "Are more curious than others."

Harry had to agree with the man there. His life was anything but normal.

"My life is nothing to dig into when you don't know where you're going, and honestly, has nothing to do with what you are asking me!"

"I disagree, son. We are a product of our environment, as this jail can show you. Your secret, interesting life has brought you here, and it has the ability to protect you in a hearing, if needed."

Harry did not understand what the detective was trying to tell him. "You mean, get out of it?"

"Oh, I do not promise anything. Our past causes us to make dreadful decisions, and I hope to make sure the Judge knows your history."

This caused Harry to laugh. "They wouldn't believe a damn thing!"

The detective appeared excited. "And why is that? The gaps in your life we cannot find? The mystery of your family? Or perhaps the murderer you told your friends killed them."

"He did kill them! He killed many people. More than anyone in prison."

"Papers say they died in an explosion."

"Lies." Harry did not know how to tell a Muggle what really happened.

The detective made a sound acknowledging Harry's remark and wrote more notes. There was a pregnant pause, which prolonged the awkwardness of their conversation. Harry could not help but feel irritated that the man did not believe him...of course, did he really expect him to?

Maine cleared his throat. "Going back, I ask you again, Harry, as gentle as I can. What happened yesterday that brought you here?"

Harry closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. This man was really good at his job. "It was a girl. We were both on drugs and alcohol. She cornered me into having sex with her."

Maine smiled. "That usually isn't something a man gets angry over."

"It is when everything has been taken away from you, and it was all you had left!"

"You love someone else?"

Harry nodded, unable to speak more about his stupid mistake.

"Then why did you want to die over it? You made some serious claims last night, Harry. We had to take them seriously."

Harry immediately understood why the foul looking man was outside his cell all hours of the night. They were making sure he wouldn't off himself!

"Look, my life is private. No one but those in it understand anything!"

"You think I won't believe you? I hear some insane stories."

Harry laughed. "You won't. And I would not concern yourself, or your staff, about worrying for my life."

Detective Maine went into his suit pocket and grabbed a tin of mints. Placing one in his mouth, he offered one to Harry, but he declined. "It's more of a liability, Harry. Half the time we wish these murderers would just kill themselves to save us the time, but you are different."

"How am I different?"

"First time offender...18 years old...you have a life ahead of you."

Harry felt the tears push through his eyes and looked away from the man. "Do I really, though?"

Maine sighed and folded his notebook. "Well, that answered my last question. You are on another few days of watch. Unless you have anything else to say, Harry, you may return back to your cell."

Harry moaned inwardly and sighed. "You're twisting my words!"

"Sounded clear to me."

Harry was led back to the same cell and when his handcuffs were removed, fell into the bed holding his wrists. Tears fell from his face and he bit his cheek, refusing to make a sound. How long were they going to keep him there before seeing the Judge? He was already in agony.

/

The rest of the day went on slow as ever. He slept most of the afternoon, refusing lunch altogether. A different officer sat outside his cell now, this one a woman and more empathetic. She sat across from him and attempted to strike a conversation, which he returned. He still refused the lunch she gave him.

"You need to eat up love," she said as dinner came through. "I know you're starvin'"

Harry nodded this time. He was very hungry now. He placed his hands through the bars and she handcuffed him. Harry pulled them back through and took the tray when she opened his door. As soon as she shut it Harry was gestured to come back so she could unlock the cuffs.

"Why can't I go out and eat like some of the other people?"

"Too many means for you go and kill yourself over." Harry's glare softened as he saw her smile.

"True, I suppose."

Harry spent the evening playing cards with her, and when 9:00pm hit, he was forced to carry on his nightly bed routine and sleep. Of course, he didn't. He found himself getting up every hour and pacing the floor. The woman encouraged him to sleep, but after she was relieved by someone else, he could not simply lay staring at the bed above him. At some point he did fall asleep, dreamed of nothing, and when he awoke breakfast had arrived. He followed the routine, hands through the bars, handcuff, arms back through, unlock..then after swallowing a few bites of food, fell back asleep.

This time he dreamed about Hedwig. She brought him a package from Ron and opened it, excited to see what it was, but all he managed to grab from the wrapping was a disgusting, live, beating heart, oozing with blood. He screamed in his dream, and at once Harry awoke. He bolted up from bed and breathed. He reminded himself where he was, and looked over at the same foul faced man from the first morning.

"You all right there, lad?"

"Just a nightmare." he whispered. Harry spent the next few minutes thinking about the dream, and trying his best not to interpret the dream the way his mind wanted him to. Were the Weasleys trying to show him how depressed they were about Fred? Were they telling him that he causes heartache and misery? He laid down again and stared at the wall...feeling the moments pass away.

A man walked up to the officer sitting outside his cell and muttered something about a visit. Harry covered his ears. He was really trying to fall back asleep to make the time go faster.

"Mr. Potter." a rather sinister looking man growled.

Harry rolled over off the bed. "Yes, sir."

"Visitor, room 4."

Harry gave him a confused stare and put his hands through the bars. Who could possibly be trying to visit him? His heart sunk, imagining it to be Jackson and how he was going to have to apologize profusely to him. Ugh, what was he even going to say? He was led down a wide hallway, opposite of the interview rooms, and Harry could see figure from behind the tempered glass.

"Right," the man warned. "You will remain handcuffed. Hands in the lap the entire time when seated. We will be forced to remove you if you continue to break this rule. You may get up to walk around but hands must be below your chest. Understand?"

Harry nodded. What was he going to do, hold it over his friend's throat?

With a mechanical clank the door opened, and he immediately stopped in his tracks. He couldn't believe it.

A kind, concerned smile appeared on the man's face. "Harry, it is good to see you again."

It was Kingsley Shacklebolt!

 **Dun dun duuuuuun! Stay tuned**


	15. Bad News

**I work currently in behavioral health, and due to obvious reasons, Harry has always been a classic case of PTSD to me. Thank you for hanging on and reading my story. Let's see what is in store for Harry this chapter!**

Harry could not believe his eyes. The man appeared calm, understanding, but the fear that Harry had at that moment only grew. He did not know what to think.

"Harry, please, sit down. We have much to talk about."

He obeyed, but stole a glance at the window he knew had officers staring in. "But they will hear."

Kingsley waved his hand casually, and Harry could feel a spell move past him. "They will not know a thing, Harry. Now, please tell me what got you here. You are no criminal."

He could feel himself sag in the chair, tired of answering the same question again and again. "I trust you already know."

The smile returned to the man's face. "Yes, I have spoken to these men before meeting with you. What concerns me the most is that your goal of finding happiness outside of the Wizarding world has failed you."

"It really hasn't."

"I find that hard to believe, Harry. Muggle substances, bizarre behavior, claiming to not care about your life...I have seen this, Harry, in so many Aurors and friends after great suffering. Running from this will not solve anything, and it is wasting time."

"What am I wasting?" he asked angrily. "I have nothing here, and I have nothing back home. I feel like I am just wandering in the middle and don't belong anywhere."

"That is where you are wrong."

Harry snorted.

The man fell silent for a moment and Harry could feel him searching for the right words. "I am asking you to fight for yourself. I am willing to help you do that."

"Get me out of this jail, and out of the court hearing." Harry said flatly.

He saw a smirk on the man's face. "I cannot do that, Harry. You need to answer to the wrong that you have done, just like anyone else."

Harry was seething. "I did not do anything wrong!"

"Think of this as a way to get help for yourself. These people here act as though they are above you, but in speaking to them, they care for you immensely. As plainly as I could, I have told them the suffering you have endured. They will pass that to the Judge."

"Oh, I am sure Detective Maine had a field day with that information."

Kingsley laughed. "He is an interesting fellow, for sure. You are the most curious thing here to them, Harry. As I had stated, you are no criminal."

Harry felt depressed. The person who he knew could help him was letting him sink and reach rock bottom. "So, in other words, you're doing this to help me in some bizarre way?"

"I am doing this to help you help yourself. It is up to the Judge to determine what happens next."

Harry sighed. He just felt as if he was going further and further in the opposite direction. He was not any closer to finding happiness, and he knew deep down that the man was right. He was as miserable as always, and running away only made it worse.

"How do I even move on from this? What if the Judge makes me stay in jail? How is that going to help me?"

"I would not be concerned about being sent to jail, Harry. I managed to get the court hearing for tomorrow, let's just say I know a few squibs in the system." The man winked.

"Let me guess, that's how you knew I was here?"

Kingsley smiled. "I have eyes in the Muggle world too, you know? And when a squib sees 'Harry Potter' on a docket for court, I will hear about it."

Harry leaned back in the chair and covered his face tiredly, then dropped his hands immediately. He just remembered the rule he just broke and was surprised he didn't hear the glass knock.

"You look like you wish to say something, Harry."

"Yeah, er, does the Weasley family know that I am here?"

For the first time the smile fell from Kingsley's face. "Yes, Harry. I told them this morning." He ignored Harry's moan of frustration and went on, "They wish only for your safety and agree that for now, this is the best place for you."

Harry laughed vindictively. "You know, I overheard an officer say he was surprised I was not sent to a hospital yet. Those mental ones."

Kingsley kept his voice stern. "The court hearing is blocking that at the moment, but Harry, I can tell you that sending you there is not yet off the table. You made serious statements, and with your history, you should have been sent there long ago."

Harry looked at him incredulously. "Are YOU mental? I am not going to be locked up with a bunch on loonies!"

"That's a myth, Harry. People lost and desperate like you are sent there to be stabilized. I am allowing the Muggle system determine what happens next, Harry, as you are not in the Wizading community any longer."

Harry couldn't believe what he just heard. "So, you are turning your back on me?"

"That is not what I said."

"That is what you are telling me!"

"Harry, you chose to come to London to find a new life. You made this your home, and you will be going through the Muggle system. I can only guide you through as subtly as I can, but the decisions you have made are your own!"

Harry fought back the angry tears. He felt awful, disgusted with himself, and terribly alone. "I just don't care anymore Kingsley. I feel like a complete failure."

The man leaned forward and waited for Harry to make eye contact. "None of us think of you that way, especially the Weasleys. This is your fight, and one day you will feel free of the prison you have made for yourself. It takes time and effort, and this time I think you will be ready."

Harry fell into silence for a moment, lost in thought. Of all the words of wisdom Dumbledore had said over the years came back to him, and each with a much stronger challenge to them. Yes, he always agreed with what the man had said, it made sense, but now to exercise it became daunting. He was not sure he had the strength, and it was so much easier to just lose himself in his misery. He had lost his proactive personality once Voldemort had died.

Kingsley's voice cut through his thoughts. "What's on your mind?"

Harry laughed shortly, thinking of how to say it. "I always thought back on the prophecy, you know. 'None can live while the other survives' and all. It's all over but it feels as if, somehow, Voldemort is still alive somewhere. I haven't been able to live at all."

Kinglsey seemed to understand what he was saying. "Guilt will do that, Harry. War steals more than just lives. But there are always new beginnings, and I can tell you—there are always new beginnings, if you look."

"You sound like Dumbledore."

There was a brief silence, then both broke out into laughter. Harry beamed for the first time in days, and Kingsley was attempting to stifle himself.

"I suppose I must take that as a compliment, as long as you do not compare me to Cornelius Fudge."

"Oh, forget that!"

Kingsley felt into his pockets and fished out a black pocket watch. Harry could see he was pressed for time.

"All right, Harry, I must leave you know. I will be at the hearing tomorrow, and I trust you will be on your best behavior?"

Harry smiled mischieviously, "Naturally."

"Hmn...right." Kingsley stood up and patted Harry on the shoulder. "Until tomorrow, then."

The door suddenly opened and a red-haired officer led Kingsley out, and another officer motioned for him stand up.

"Right then, lad, back you go."

And just like that, Kingsley was gone, and Harry found himself heading back to his temporary cell, just as before. A feeling of change, he could feel, was about to occur, but what sort? He assumed anything was better than feeling like a zoo animal at the moment. The dumpy man was back, finishing a pastry.

"Do you know when I see the Judge tomorrow?" he asked him.

"From what I hear, it's at 8:00am. Then I heard 11:00am. Don't ask me."

Harry shriveled. Well, he supposed he was just going to have to wait. But wasn't he supposed to have some sort of lawyer?

Meanwhile, miles away, the Weasely household was once more in an uproar. Arthur was attempting his best to keep the peace.

"We are NOT going to the hearing!" he explained for the fourth time.

Ginny was livid. "Why not? I don't care what Kingsley says!"

Her mother scolded her. "Ginny, that is your Minister! He is no longer fighting alongside us, he's a leader! We need to trust him!"

Ron and Hermione were trying their best to stay out of it, but Hermione was also frustrated. "What on earth got into him? Harming people, wanting to hurt himself, this is not Harry!"

Ginny felt the need to defend him. "He was scared and desperate. He didn't mean to do it!"

"Seriously, though," Ron muttered. "I wish we could go to support him. Who knows what the Muggles are going to do?"

Arthur was getting tired. "Kingsley is trusting the Muggle system to help him, and he is right, he has a crime in the Muggle jurisdiction. It must be up to them."

Ginny, for the first time since Fred died, burst into tears. "He's not a criminal! He needs _us!"_

Molly called after her but she ran upstairs, bawling about it all being unfair. It fell quiet, and Ron raised an eyebrow. "Well, that was a bit dramatic."

Hermione shushed him. "Be nice, Ron."

Arthur folded his hand over his face and sighed. He was so tired. "I am going for all of you. I will report what was decided."

And that was the end of that.

Ron and Hermione were left on the couch and both did not know what to say. There was exasperation about all the events that had led up to now. How far gone was their best friend?

"Look, it will be all right, I just know it," Ron said, attempting to be more sympathetic. "He'll come around, and we will all be together again. Just like before."

A soft smile spread across Hermione's face. "It will. I don't care if I have to wait years."

"I don't know about that long."

They laughed.

"But, really," Ron stated quietly. "What was he thinking? Getting involved with the wrong crowd, losing his marbles and attacking that Auror?"

"It's a police officer, Ron, but I know it does not sound like Harry. He's being himself...impulsive and reckless. What else is new?"

Ron shrugged. "Well, not to that extreme..."

"He's just using it somewhere else rather than a Death Eater, or fighting trolls."

He thought a moment. "Um, yeah, which is worse?"

Hermione laughed again and put her head on his shoulder. "Don't worry, he always comes around in his own stubborn way."

Boredom was consuming Harry, and he really wanted a cigarette. He was reading a book of Grimm's Fairytales that he was able to get after complaining about him dying with nothing to do. It was the day of his court hearing (which he learned was actually at 10:30am, none of which the man was right about) and he still had not heard from a lawyer.

"He's coming any time now," Det. Maine told him earlier that morning after breakfast. "We were told he would be in by 9:00am."

"But what if he doesn't come?"

"Then your hearing will be rescheduled."

Harry moaned. So, it was 8:45 in the morning and he was reading a book about sadistic witches and animals instead of speaking to the very person who could get him out of trouble. He kept watching the clock on the opposite wall, and waiting for the officers to open the door.

There was a bang, and Harry almost dropped the book. The man on the other side of the bars stood up and nodded to a very decorated officer, who stopped at the cell. "He has a visit with the lawyer in room 6. After that we will transport him to the court building."

Harry stood up and put his hands through the bars. He was led once again to the visitor's area, told the same information about his hand placement, and practically shoved into the room, where a rather young looking male sat facing him.

"Hello, Harry," the man said weakly. "Please have a seat. My name is Sean Willow."

Harry did so and was not sure how he felt about the lawyer yet. He seemed very flighty.

"So, one of your friends in London recommended me, as I am familiar with you background." Harry stopped himself in his tracks and became very interested in what the man was saying now. "I have read your file, and have listened to multiple people, especially your friend, about ways I can help you escape a more serious outcome."

Harry did not recognize the name. He lowered his voice. "Are you in the community or outside?"

The man replied flatly, "Outside."

So the man was a squib. Harry nodded briefly and motioned for the man to continue on.

"What do you want out of this, Harry?"

"Um, I don't know. I guess I want to stay out of jail."

"I can tell you what I hear they wish to do." Willow opened his notebook and skimmed over a report. Harry could almost feel his stomach freeze. "It is 3 months in jail and a year of probation. You will also spend a month in a mental health facility before you are sent to jail."

Harry wanted to vomit.

"What do you think of that?"

Harry could barely speak. "Well, er, it is definitely not something that I want."

"It's no Azkaban, Harry, but you definitely do not belong there, especially after what you did for our community. I personally would not want to fail and have that happen."

Harry knew the man had some edge braving the mention of the Wizarding world in front of Muggles. He had to trust him. "What are you proposing?"

His lawyer did not seem overly excited about that option either, and it made Harry nervous. "Mind you, Harry, this has come from multiple people, and I believe it to be the most good for your cause. The main reason for these charges come from your feelings of instability. You yourself understand that working on this will help you."

"What are you saying?"

"Dartford Residential Treatment. The only way to show the Judge that you will prevent yourself from becoming another resident in jail is if you improve the areas that lead you to commit these crimes."

Harry couldn't believe what Willow was telling him. "Residential treatment? What does that even mean?"

His lawyer appeared uncomfortable. "Behavioral health facility. It's that or what the other side will be asking for."

Harry fell into his arms on the table and said nothing. Tears were beginning to burn in his eyes, and he felt incredibly embarrassed and vulnerable.

"Harry?"

"Did Kingsley tell you that?" he said, with his voice mumbled from under his arms.

"I told you, it was multiple people. I am not pointing fingers."

Harry sat up and he knew his face was red, and his eyes glassy, but he was forcing back angry tears. How could this be his only option?

"If this is the only way, which I doubt, how long will I be there?"

Willow brought more bad news. "Courts like to see a minimum of 6 months, Harry."

"WHAT?"

"You're getting less time than your other option. Don't push the Judge, they can always request more time, up to a year. Think of how many years from your past you are going to be working on. 6 months is not enough time."

Harry was afraid to say anything else or he was going to lose it. His lawyer could sense this.

"I will do my best to get you out of jail, Harry. That it what you wanted. I will see you very soon."

Harry said nothing and allowed the officers to take him out the back, fully handcuffed on his wrists and ankles. He was barely aware of the ride to court, and he was thankful that none of the officers said anything. Harry hoped he could keep it together in front of the Judge. He remembered the hearing with Cornelius Fudge, and if Dumbledore had not been there he would have been in so much trouble.


	16. Court and New Beginnings

**Here is another chapter for you! I am trying to be as realistic as possible as far as court and residential treatments go.**

Harry took a deep breath. The deepest and longest one he imagined he ever did. He stood outside the rear door to the courtroom and waited for the officers to escort him inside, still so nervous he wanted to drop to the ground. His damn grand entrance was almost as if he were preparing to jump on stage and show off his act...but he definitely forgot all his lines. He moaned softly, not wanting to let his guards realize the amount of pressure he was under. Through the door Harry heard the Judge's low voice mumble but he couldn't make out a single word. He seriously wished the Judge would just determine a sentence so he did not have to sit and hear it.

"Potter," said the guard as he made sure the handcuffs were still fastened (what else would they be?) "In a moment a knock will allow you in. Sit next to your lawyer and say nothing unless asked. Understand?"

"Sure," he mumbled, although he felt as if it came out more as a whisper.

"These hearings don't last long, say fifteen minutes, but I will tell you, it's the longest fifteen minutes of your life."

"Okay...Thank you?" Harry caught a glance of the man's face and it did not smile. It must definitely be true then.

A sudden knock rapt at the door and Harry couldn't help but jump. He felt so ill. The guards pushed him through the door, and he found himself in a small room divided on each side, and on one sat his lawyer. The Judge was seasoned, it appeared, and was ignoring his entrance into the court. His name, "Judge Murray," was set beside the stack of paperwork that was much more interesting than he. Harry scanned the crowd in the benches behind and couldn't believe his eyes. There, at the end, sat none other than Aunt Petunia. She wore her best outfit for the hearing, and he could not catch her gaze—avoiding his eye contact completely. He had no idea why she was even there. Kingsley, who he expected, and on his left was Arthur Weasley. The man gave him an smile and gesture showing he was cheering for Harry. It made him feel all the more anxious, and better yet, further down were David and Jackson. David gave an awkward wave and he had to look away. Every person he was trying to avoid were all in the courtroom. Harry was embarrassed of his handcuffs and wished he could just melt away and drip into the floor.

A heavy silence followed his seat into court, and all Harry heard were the papers that both lawyers seemed to be mindlessly shuffling. Sean Willow opened his notebook up and leaned over to whisper to him what was going on. "Those two on the other side are for the representation of the district on the charges, not necessarily people who were violated. There is no debating, the Judge already knows all the facts. They present their charge, their petition, then it is our turn. Say nothing. Do you understand?"

Harry could only nod. The less he said the better, in all honesty. At least he didn't have to be interrogated on the stand as before.

Judge Murray finished his last page and shifted to an older woman to his left. "Begin"

The woman nodded. "We are here on case J-4439 for Mr. Harry Potter."

"Charges?"

"Assault of an officer, resisting arrest, domestic violence, trespassing."

Harry felt his eyes close in frustration. How had he racked up four stupid charges in a span of an hour? He couldn't bear to look at his friends.

"What is the district's stance?"

A rather large man on the other side cleared his throat. "As presented, client has shown instability in the community, and displaying behavior that puts others at risk. District is pushing for an evaluation at the Newham Centre for thirty days, then proceed with three months of jail. He would be followed with a year of probation. Requirements of probation include community service, mental health services and follow through, and meetings with probation officer bi-weekly."

The Judge did not waste any time. "And the client's?"

Harry's lawyer smoothed out his suit. "My client has needs that must be worked out through proper reform. I am looking to send my client to Dartford Residential Treatment facility for a minimum of six months, no probation. He has no prior offenses."

Harry braved himself to look up at the intimidating man in front of him. Surprisingly he had now abandoned the papers and was staring down at his folded hands. No one said a word as they waited his response.

"Mr. Potter, I see these charges every day. I charge people with these offenses every day, too. Without looking at your background, you are just the same as any other criminal in our system. Do you understand this?"

Harry felt his heart sink. "Yes, sir."

"Thus, Mr. Potter, do you think background aside, that a man should be charged for such offenses?"

He couldn't hang his head any lower. "Yes, sir."

"Well, then tell me, why it is best that you go to residential treatment over receiving jail time?"

Harry paused, not really knowing what to say. Mr. Willow was visibly tense and that only made him more anxious. "H..honestly, sir, I don't know."

"Do you think you need to go to jail?"

"I don't want to go." He could not think of anything else to say.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Potter, it is not about wanting to. Do you think, or do you disagree, that your charge should put you behind bars?"

Harry was fighting the urge to scream. "Yes, I agree." He felt a nudge from his lawyer from under the table.

"As far as the residential treatment, Mr. Potter, do you agree that this placement is a suitable charge for the offenses?"

Again, Harry was silent. How was he supposed to know this? "It feels worse." He felt a definite kick from Mr. Willow now, and not only that, the Judge was looking down at him very intently.

"Your are challenging your own stance?"

His lawyer interjected. "Your Honour, I don't believe my client understands the questions."

"No." Judge Murray stated. "Your client completely understands, and I see that he is willing to bring himself into the fire rather than face his own demons."

Harry became mute.

"Mr. Potter, let me tell you, your life at a treatment facility may feel more of a prison, but you fix nothing going to jail. You are just that...a prisoner, at the fresh age of eighteen. What good does that to you?"

"I don't know, sir."

The man sighed. "I reviewed your case extensively. I read the admission of guilt from your aunt here in the courtroom about past neglect, removal from school, etc etc."

Harry couldn't believe his ears. He stole a glance at his aunt, who he could see was turning a bright, bright pink and staring firmly at the wall ahead. Wait, she admitted to taking him out of school? For what? He looked at Kingsley, who returned his gaze with a given message...this was his idea? Harry found himself scrambling to put the pieces together, and above all, how the hell Kingsley got his aunt to admit to something she did not even do.

"Now, your aunt's limitations are passed, as you are no longer a minor. As heinous as the statements were," he gave a hard glare at Aunt Petunia. "I must take your upbringing into account. Abuse, lack of education, and even reports of surviving murder. I absolutely _cannot_ allow you to even _think_ that jail would be the best placement for you without attempting a more lenient placement first."

Harry felt a trickling feeling course through him at the man's words. It was the first time he had heard a Muggle believe him when he said the Dursley's were dreadful. How many times had he gone to the nurse at school complaining of an imaginary stomach ache so that they could see the punches Dudley offered him? When did they ever get concerned when he appeared desperate at lunch to lick every crease in the food tray? It seemed almost a relief in itself, when the conflict with Voldemort became real amongst the Muggle world. The Judge was explaining that he believed him, and all his suffering. He could not describe it other than feeling as if both worlds at last acknowledged his heartache. It was enough to force Harry to shove his face into his hands.

The two men on the other side did not even contest. They appeared to even agree with the Judge. Harry heard the man's voice soften with concern. "I am ordering you to become a resident at Dartford, and I will give you only six months. You _will_ get six months of probation afterward to maintain. Try these charges again, Mr. Potter, and I will have force myself to see you in jail. Do you understand?"

Harry could not remove himself from his face. He merely nodded and refused to show the entire courtroom the crushing blow he was experiencing. He felt himself shaking.

"Mr. Willow, what is the status on getting this boy a bed at Dartford?"

He heard his lawyer clear his throat. "I spoke with the intake department yesterday. They will have a bed available today, quite fortunately."

"Then an order to the Newham Centre is not needed until placement. Be sure Mr. Potter is ready and transport today from the courts. We're dismissed."

Harry heard the clamor erupt around him of chairs sliding and mumbling of voices but he couldn't move. He felt Mr. Willow lean into him and touched his wrist gently. "Harry, relax, this will work out for you. Do you trust me?"

Harry shrugged. He didn't know. He knew nothing. All he could understand was that for once in his life a part of him was realized, yet in an instant, he knew he was being forced into a damn residential treatment centre because of it.

"I need to get out of here, and I do not want to talk to any of them on the way out." he mumbled to the man, refusing to move his hands from his face.

"The Minister wants to speak to you, Harry. They all do."

"I can't."

Harry heard the officers approach the table and he immediately stood up and dropped his hands so that they could inspect his cuffs again. He could feel the wetness around his eyes, blaringly announcing his emotions, and Harry could have ran out of the room if were permitted to. He could not let them see him upset. The officers led him the same way he came in, and with a huge wash of relief he escaped the room. Harry took his glasses off and wiped his face, almost choking on the tightness in his throat. None of the officers said a word to him. Harry felt like the elephant in the room no one wanted to talk about.

His lawyer did not resurface, but instead the last officer opened the door and met them in the hallway. "Directions to the facility. He's cuffed until intake is finished, so Michael, you and Thomas will remain with him until then. The rest of you, return to your duties."

The two men Harry assumed were Michael and Thomas pulled him along the darkened hall and back toward the loading area they came from. They both spoke to themselves about how much they would rather do this than head out to where they were supposed to be, and Harry ignored them. He thought that absolutely anything was better than this.

They passed a vending machine and Harry felt a tug behind him."Hold a sec, Mike." Thomas said. "I'm getting a Coke, and son, you look like you need one to. Who knows if they have this stuff where you're going."

Harry was surprised by the act of kindness. He managed to nod briefly as thanks. Michael peered over his shoulders. "Mate, get me a diet."

"Ass," Thomas hissed. "I wasn't offering you anything!"

"Just get me a blasted diet Coke!"

Harry felt as if they were attempting to lighten the mood, and he felt very thankful to them. Despite assaulting an officer the men seemed to see the hurt side of him more, and as Harry sat in the back of the van with Thomas, he felt a bit more human drinking the gift he was given.

/

Arthur attempted to hide his disappointment. He was really hoping Harry would speak to him, but it quickly became obvious that the opportunity would not happen. Arthur's heart felt for the boy, but he knew this Dartford place had to be the best thing for him. Kingsley rose after the hearing and quickly made his way over to Harry's aunt, who was visibly uncomfortable. She seemed very cross that the man was heading in her direction.

"Mrs. Dursley, I appreciate you being here. You did a very brave thing today."

"I've washed my hands of this boy from now on, do you hear?" Petunia snapped. "We have admitted our...treatment...of him, as you had asked. I would care to see it that we never met again."

Arthur wanted to really tell her what was on his mind, but he thought better of it. Kingsley himself was using all of his diplomatic skills to not say something rash either.

"Of course, Mrs. Dursley. The Ministry will close ties with your family as of today. Harry is in good hands."

The woman scoffed and gathered her things, leaving them to give each other disgusted looks. Two men came up after she left the courtroom and glared in her direction.

"Is that Harry's aunt?" one of them asked.

Kingsley nodded. "And how do you know Harry?"

David held out his hand to shake. "Er, David. This is Jackson. Harry was staying with us before all this. Told us about how awful she was."

Arthur was shocked. After all this time, here were the very boys Harry was with. He did his best to not become angry at the fact they were responsible for giving Harry the Muggle drugs.

Jackson reached his hands out to do the same, and he appeared to be relieved of the outcome. "I just couldn't bring myself to press charges. All the things going on in his head, and whatnot. I'm just glad he's getting help."

"Agreed," Kingsley noted. "We thank you for your understanding. It is an enormous relief to us knowing he is within sight now. He gave us a scare."

"Just let him know we're still friends and all that," David piped up. "No hard feelings."

They shook hands again and Arthur watched the two boys leave. He turned to Kingsley, frustrated. "I don't know whether to be thankful or angry at them."

"It's best to move on, I think, Arthur. What's done is done."

Arthur returned home that morning to an eager family. For once he had good news, and it was less difficult to discuss it.

"He's being sent to a place that will help him. If he is willing, we will be able to visit him on occasion."

For the first time, Ginny's face broke out into a smile. "I'm so glad!"

Mrs. Weasley embraced her. "Did I not tell you it would work itself out, love?"

/

Harry sighed heavily as the officers pulled into the treatment center's parking lot. It didn't seem that bad from the outside. Officer Thomas checked the handcuffs one last time and led him out the back of the van. Harry was surprised to see Sean Willow standing outside the front doors holding a large bag.

"What's all that?" he asked as they approached.

"Your clothes and other belongings from your flat. I had asked your flatmates to bring them for you so you don't have live in one outfit until you get new ones."

"Oh," he said. Harry was still wearing the clothes he had on at the party, which he did feel rather disgusted in now that it was a few days ago. Officer Michael got the door for them and Harry was led into the main lobby. It was fairly nice, beige tiled floors and light blue and white walls. A sitting area had a family of four reading magazines or playing on their phones, supposedly waiting to see a family member. The youngest child was staring at him and Harry felt immediately embarrassed by his threatening demeanor. It's not everyday you see a man chained up. The mother called the child over and he tried to ignore the stares.

From one of the offices a man in a polo shirt and slacks headed in their direction, smiling. He shook hands with the officers and Mr. Willow and gave Harry a welcoming look.

"Well, Mr. Potter, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Aaron, and I am in charge of the recreational therapies here, as well as perform the intakes. Follow me to our intake room, if you will!"

Harry wasn't sure how he felt about Aaron. He was trying too hard to be friendly, but Harry also knew he wasn't feeling very excited about his new home so everything was irritating him. They followed the man outside into a pristine courtyard and met at a large white gate. Aaron unlocked it and allowed everyone to pass through before making sure it was shut. Harry did not like the look of that.

"Right, just down here." Harry tried his best to take in his surroundings without trying to appear completely curious. He was supposed to hate this, after all. Far off to the right was a sports field, he couldn't make out what kind, and the buildings were lined with Cyprus trees and orientals. There didn't seem to be a soul around, but he did take in the realization that he was surrounded by tall white bars.

Aaron used his keycard to open a large door, and led them to a large conference room. "Take a seat anywhere you like, gentlemen. You can leave him with me now, officers. I will ring for Jill to take you back."

Harry felt excited. Officer Thomas undid his leg and wrist cuffs and folded them up into his hands. The officers patted his shoulders, "Be good now, Harry."

Harry waved hesitantly and watched them leave and wait outside to be escorted back. Mr. Willow opened up the bag and sat next to Harry. He began folding his clothes and organizing them.

"While your lawyer itemizes your belongings, Harry, I want to go through the paperwork with you." There was a rather large stack the man pulled closer to his reach, as well as a red wristband. "Now, some you sign, and others your lawyer signs, as you are court ordered here. Your lawyer is the only person that can sign you out, and he will do so when your treatment ends."

"Sure."

Harry looked over every page...client rights, rules of the treatment centre, list of suggested activities. He was overloaded. "I can leave the campus?" he asked.

"Only if you are in the green." Aaron took the wristband from the table and gestured for Harry to hold up his arm. "All new residents start in the red. As your behavior improves, you move to yellow, then green. Green status gets your off site privileges and home passes. Yellow grants you things like extra snacks from the cafeteria, more rec time, and other general privileges. Red is not good. Red will get you a loss of basic privileges and even risk putting you in isolation. With this color you will definitely get more alerted attention from the staff, and that can either earn you a yellow status, or negative consequences. Do you understand what each color can do for you?"

Harry felt the hospital wrist band click, and he felt slightly disappointed. Did that mean he started off with nothing? "How long do I stay in the red before going to yellow?"

"Usually we like to see consistency. I'd say a week of decent behavior will get you moved up, but remember, that it only takes a few episodes to drop you down again. Be mindful of that."

Harry then filled out paperwork on his moods. What did he think were triggers, things that he wished to change, positive people in his life...Harry wasn't all sure how to answer them.

Aaron could see his hesitancy. "Answer the best you can. The therapist goes through it with you again to help guide you."

After so much paperwork, Harry was tired, and all he wanted to do was take a shower and change. Aaron shook Mr. Willow's hand and thanked him for taking the time to fill everything out. "Come on, Harry," Aaron said. "Jill will walk him back and I will lead you to your room."

Harry carried his belongings the best he could and followed the man out of the room.

"See you, Harry." Mr. Willow said, with a soft smile. "I'll let your friends know your safe."

Harry murmured, "Thanks." He did not look back. Aaron picked up speed and guided him along a series of hallways. The same blue and white paint were splashed on the walls, and he felt he was in a sort of rec space. When the the hall cleared he saw the open area with a small barista/cafe spot and seating. In the corner were various board games, ping pong table, and a stack of X Box games.

"This, Harry, is what you will be able to access every day when you are green status, four times a week as yellow, and twice a week as red."

"Where is everyone?"

"Depends on the dorm. We have three of them. You're in Maple, just outside the doors here. The other two buildings are Ash and Oak. Maple is in group finishing up, and they should be back for lunch in our Lodge, which is our cafeteria."

Harry felt his mind spinning, wondering if he'd even fit in with these people. He was beginning to feel sick again. They exited the rec building and he followed Aaron to Maple. He noted the keycard again. "We can only go in if one of you open it?"

"Security measure. The last thing we need is other dorms stealing belongings. Plus, it helps the staff keep an eye on their patients."

It was definitely a 'cabin' feel. At first glace there was a wide open living area with a small kitchen. It looked like any other living room found in a home, except for the multitude of couches and sofas.

"Now, it is eight to a dorm, and two to a room. You will be rooming with Danny." Harry was led through the living room to a set of doors with numbers. Aaron opened number 4. Harry walked in nervously and noticed immediately which bed was his. Tucked neatly under the window was a bed with the sheets folded neatly into a square on the mattress. Across from it was a very haphazardly done bed, with what looked like crisps crushed onto the comforter.

Aaron sighed. "And just so you know, food is not allowed in the rooms." Aaron cleaned up the mess and Harry was eager to set down his heavy things. "Take your time putting your belongings away. I'll be waiting in the main room until your done and take you to lunch. Don't want to miss it, it's a favourite around here!"

Harry attempted to smile and let the man leave. He took a moment and sat slowly onto the bed. He listened to silence...a silence so loud he wanted to cover his ears. A feeling of loneliness filled his heart...without meaning to his body began racking with silent sobs, and he couldn't stop them.


	17. First Day

**I don't know how this turned into another friend triangle but here it is LOL. Again, tried to stay realistic with residential treatment centers. Enjoy**

Harry supposed he took longer than needed to find a place for his things. He just could not bring himself to show Aaron that he was falling apart already. Harry was sure the man had seen it all. In separating his notebooks, a slip of paper drifted to the floor, and he flipped it over carefully. It almost made him smile. It was the picture he drew of Hedwig flying, and the unfinished outline of Buckbeak. The drawing made him homesick. Still, he found it of value, and placed in on his desk. He was sure he could find tape later to hang it up.

Aaron's voice echoed from the other room. "You all right in there, Harry?"

"Yes, sorry. Er, trying to take it all in." Harry rushed stuffing his socks in the drawer and made sure his bed was made properly. Not that he ever made his bed anymore. He changed into a striped shirt and new jeans and felt better. A sudden nervousness caused him to shake his hands idly, knowing full well they were headed to a building full of unstable blokes like himself. It was like his first day at Hogwarts. Acting as calm as possible, Harry left the bedroom and let Aaron know he was ready.

"Well done, then," the man said, finishing off a note in a large black binder. "Just wanted to inform you, lights out is at 10. Everyone wakes up at 7, breakfast at 8:30, then we break into our schedules. At the end of the day, you will get yours. Today is more of a 'meet and greet.' You will be seeing your therapist Steve Birch after lunch."

Harry sighed. He just wanted to hide and smoke a cigarette. "Can we smoke here?"

"Yes, of course! There are benches scattered about perfect for that." He winked. "I frequent them myself, and it would definitely be the first thing I'd ask." Aaron gestured for him to follow, and they left towards the Lodge. Harry could see which one it was from where they stood. The entire campus was almost in a circle, say for the sports complex off to the side. Dead center, was the Lodge.

Aaron saw his face. "Yes, it's the largest building here, but not just because it feeds everyone at once. Therapy, vocational, and education services all take place here upstairs. Like yourself, many had not been successful or had the opportunity to finish school, so we provide that here. We do not want our residents to feel in a dead end, you know?"

Through the glass, Harry could see rows of tables with people mingling. Aaron opened the door with the keycard and pushed him inside. It was rather loud, but not many bothered to look up from their plates. Harry could smell a delicious pasta alfredo wafting through the air. Above all, he was surprised that Dartford had female residents too.

"Okay, Harry, just get in line and when you're done, come sit with Nate, your dorm lead." Aaron pointed over to where a dark man in dreads was sitting, and other residents sat eating with him.

Harry was still very nervous, and he wanted to avoid everyone in the room. He did as he was instructed, feeling more and more curious eyes against his back. Perhaps if he just ignored everyone they would think he was boring and move on. Harry felt as if he were back in primary school where sooner or later, the person who smiled at him would be gone after Dudley's gang came around the corner. He quickly took his tray and made his way over to Nate, who was already shoving someone farther down the bench so that he could sit. Aaron was nowhere to be seen.

"Hi!"

Harry smiled at the girl with cropped hair sitting across from Nate hesitantly and made a feeble attempt to reply back.

"I'm Sara, who are you?"

"Harry."

"Did you just get here? I've been here since last month."

Nate waved her off. "Hold that thought, Harry. As she has already said, this is Sara from the Ash dorm. She has been appointed to be your partner in finding your place here." Sara beamed and appeared to be very proud of herself. Harry could see the green wristband from under the food tray.

There was a young man seated next to Sara who mocked relief. "And I just want to say, I am so happy that I don't have another old man rooming with me."

Nate sighed and rolled his eyes. "And this is Danny, your roommate. And Danny, if thirty two is your version of old, then Clark is ancient."

Danny himself appeared to be in his mid-twenties, but he laughed anyways. "His name was fucking Clark, what young kid is named that anyway?"

Harry was not quite sure how he felt about his roommate just yet. Danny wore black denim shorts and a plain white shirt, which did not hide the tattoos rolling down his arm that bore a red wristband. His blonde hair was cut very short and it seemed he was due for a shave. It was Danny's voice that brought him out of his thoughts.

"So, Harry, what are you in for?"

Nate kicked him from under the table. "Manners, what the hell did I tell you?"

"What? If I am going to be sleeping in the same room with him, I want to know!"

Harry attempted to joke. "I'm not going to kill you or anything."

Sara laughed and Danny feigned relief. "See, now I feel better."

Nate checked his watch. "Harry, you should hurry and eat. Mr. Birch needs to see you after everyone returns to their schedules. You will also be meeting with Dr. Blankenship, the prescriber."

Danny made a retching sound. Sara giggled.

"Enough, seriously!"

Harry wanted to eat but managed to just play with his fork. An audible tone went through the loudspeaker and everyone moaned. Danny stopped balancing his spoon on his nose and gathered up his things. Sara winked and waved at him.

"See ya, Harry!"

Nate led him over to the staircase and gestured for him to go up. "The psychiatrists are here on Mondays and Thursdays. Mr. Birch is here all week, and weekends there is Ms. Trane."

"What do I do with Dr. Blankenship?"

"She gets a work up of your needs and prescribes medications."

Harry sighed and followed Nate down a bright hallway where it then lead to a small waiting room. Nate knocked on a partially open door and stated that he was there.

He heard an older woman's voice muffled through the doorway. "Okay, good. We will just wait for Mr. Birch then. Cecily can get his vitals."

Harry felt his anxiety fade away once they left the cafeteria, but now he was full of uncertainty. He barely went to a Muggle doctor and now he was going to see a psychiatrist and a therapist all in the same day. His vitals were good, according to the medical assistant, and Harry caught sight of a tall man with dark hair and stainless steel glasses swiftly head towards the doctor's office.

"That's Birch," Nate said. "He doesn't' show much emotion, so just so you know, it's him, not you. I will come back and get you when both are finished."

Harry watched him go and forced himself to sit in front of the doctor. Mr. Birch sat to his right and held his notepad ready. He wasn't really sure what to expect.

Dr. Blankenship's near beehive hair was distracting, and she reminded him of the Hogwarts librarian. She smiled warmly, however, and seemed pleased to see him.

"Harry! I have read so much about you. Papers from the courts show a lot of information, but I want to hear it from you, the best you can, yes?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"It said you had gotten a lot of charges with the police after a panic and depressive episode, correct?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about why you were feeling this way."

Harry's heart slumped. "I was just feeling worthless and that I had nothing left to hold on to."

"And that brought you to be suicidal, yes?"

He nodded.

"The Judge had said your aunt admitted to abuse and neglect. How many years was this?"

Harry felt his knee shaking again...these were very direct and personal questions he was not sure how to answer. "Er, as long as I remember."

"What did that look like?"

"What?"

She repeated herself. "The abuse, Harry. What did that look like?"

"Not feeding me, telling me I wasn't wanted, practically making me a slave in the house." Harry realized he almost whispered it.

"Why do you think they did not like you?"

"They hated my parents, and they did not want me in their home."

"Did you have any friends?"

"Some, but my cousin scared most away so that I wouldn't have friends."

Dr. Blankenship skimmed his court report as she asked her questions. He could feel himself growing more uncomfortable.

"It says that your parents were murdered when you were an infant, and you yourself are a survivor of attempted murder. Was this by the same person?"

Harry could only nod.

"You witnessed others being killed...were these people close to you?"

"Yes, they all were."

Harry found himself checking out. He answered her questions flatly, without emotion, and she thankfully did not give him pitying looks. Her questions droned on and on and he gave her whatever she wanted as long as it would be over soon.

"Do you know the medical history of either of your parents, Harry?"

"No."

"How is your sleep?"

"Awful."

"Do you have nightmares?"

"Yes."

"Do you get angry easily?"

"Yes."

Dr. Blankenship typed furiously on her computer and the printer started spewing out multiple sheets of paper. She gave a copy to Mr. Birch.

"Treat for PTSD, anxiety, depression, child abuse, and whatever else you determine in your assessment."

Harry continued to stare at the floor.

"And, Harry, I am putting you on some medications to help with your emotions that get in the way of you functioning. Celexa with help with depression, and Propanolol for anxiety and agitation. The last is Prazosin to help with sleeping. They will fill these today and you can start taking them all tonight. I will check in with you four weeks from now, all right, Harry?"

Harry knew he didn't have a choice but to take them. The Judge will see to it. Mr. Birch stood up and led him out of the room. "Harry, my office is just down the hall. We just have to go through a treatment plan for the next six months."

Harry followed the man into a large room with a large sofa and multiple board games stacked onto a table and bookshelf. He sat himself on the sofa and stiffly waited for the man to begin speaking. After a brief moment, Harry looked up, surprised, that the man was staring down at his own hands questionably.

"So, er, Mr. Potter...I don't know how to say this, but I was met by a gentleman who explained your position to me. In great detail. And, well, showed me some of the remarkable talent that you yourself hold."

Harry's body tightened even harder. "W...What?"

"He assumed by telling me you would find it much easier to speak about what has been troubling you." Mr. Birch was relatively calm, which Harry found astonishing.

"I take it Kingsley made a visit." he said softly. He was beginning to become increasingly more irritated at the man's attempt to control his life.

"He definitely cares for you."

Harry folded his arms angrily. "Yeah, well they've all been doing this for years! First they hide information from me, then they try to dictate my life by bringing me here."

"Who is 'they', Harry?"

"Everyone! The Weasleys, Dumbledore, the Ministry, the Order, all of it."

Mr. Birch went to his desk and retrieved a stack of papers, which he meticulously lined up with a notebook to write on. The man seemed to be in thought before he decided to speak. "The Minister spoke about the Order. I will need your help to clarify aspects of your life as I have no experience, but believe me when I say this, Harry...we will make progress with this."

"Just don't go and tell him everything! That is the last thing I need."

"Harry, what you say here is private, and will remain as such unless it endangers you or someone else. We will get to all that at a later time, but let's focus now on some of your goals for the next six months. A standard goal that every resident receives is 'to eliminate suicidal ideation.' I would like to add two more goals for you, Harry. I want to hear from you."

Harry shrugged. He was full of conflicting emotions—one being fueled with anger blaming the problems on the Order instead of him, and the other being defeated with no idea which goal to start on.

"What aspect of your life are you struggling with?"

"I dunno, I suppose I try to ignore problems, or how I feel about things."

Mr. Birch nodded. "A good goal for that is 'to be able to process past traumas to increase quality of life.' Do you like the sound of that one?"

"Sounds better than anything I could ever come up with."

"And one more."

Harry was not sure what to think. Everything seemed to revolve around the so-called past trauma. He supposed, there was one thing that he really wanted. "I..er...I guess I want to figure out how to forgive myself."

Mr Birch scribbled on the paper and agreed. "These two will be plenty to work on for now. We can meet these goals by completing your sessions here, taking your medications, and engaging in group and other therapeutic services. Six months really is not a long time to completely heal you, Harry, but your effort in your treatment will gauge where you could be at the end of it. Yes?"

"So, do we just talk here?"

"Sessions vary from person to person. Some like to engage in an activity while we talk, others do better getting straight to it. When you are more ready we will begin EMDR therapy, which can be intense for some. I only want to start that when your are fully ready."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What is that?"

"Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing therapy. It's a focus on a moving light while thinking about traumatizing situations from the past. From there you process it and let it lead you to other areas of the memory. I refuse doing this right away as it can easily upset my patients. We will go slow and see how it feels."

Harry agreed. After finishing up the last of his therapy requirements, they set the next meeting for the following day, and Mr. Birch then led Harry to another staircase.

"Let's go upstairs to our learning center. Aaron wants to get you enrolled in classes to get your GCSE."

"My what?"

"General Certificate of Secondary Education. This way you are able to meet the basic requirements for schooling and become eligible for a job when you are released." They walked through the learning center lobby and Harry couldn't believe how massive it was. It was as if a whole library and school squeezed itself together. Mr. Birch spoke to the receptionist about needing to locate Aaron, and she relayed his name over a radio. Harry could hear Aaron's muffled voice state he was on his way.

"How long do I have to go to school?" he asked.

"Depends on your workload. Probably for the first half of the morning. We are now switching group and individual sessions to the afternoons."

Harry watched the activity out the large window panes as people walked across campus. Standing this far away from everyone gave him more relief...if only he could hide up there forever.

As Aaron took over Mr. Birch's place, Harry forced himself to get used to the man's energetic personality, which was the complete opposite of this therapists. He groaned inwardly when he found out he had to complete an online test to determine his abilities. He was embarrassed of what the outcome could be. Sure enough, after an hour of testing, his education level was that of a twelve year old.

"Not to worry there, Harry." Aaron said, waving off the results. "A few classes will get you caught up and ready to ace your GCSE."

Needless to say, by the end of the day, Harry was exhausted and miserable. Not only did he learn he was the most stupid person on campus, but he was going to have to take medication at dinner, which he had never taken before in his life. The small amount of solace he found when everyone got together for dinner, was that Danny and Sara had saved him a spot near the window.

"You look like hell." said Danny. "What's your name again?"

"Harry."

"Yeah, Harry. What did they have you do today?"

 _Ugh, everything!_ "School, the doctor and a visit to Mr. Birch."

Sara smiled and started dumping potatoes on Danny's tray. "I don't have school but I do like Mr. Birch. He's so calm, its mesmerizing."

Danny began throwing them back on her plate. "Damn it, woman, stop grooming me, I don't want them!"

For the first time, the sweet disposition left the girl's face. "I was _not_ grooming you!"

A wicked smile spread across Danny's face. "Sara's got a bit of a problem in the sexual nature, don't you, Sweets?"

Harry felt a bit sorry for Sara. Her face became speckled red and she was trying very hard not to completely lose it.

"You are so lucky I want to go see a film with the other girls this weekend or I would totally be fine with moving down to a yellow! You're the one with conduct problems!"

No one got a chance to speak before a loud shout interrupted their conversation. Harry turned and saw two boys grab at each other, cursing and throwing things at their faces. Nate and other staff intervened, yelling on top of what was already going on. Harry was terrified.

"Ugh, here we go again," Danny moaned. "Greg thinks it's all about him."

Harry turned back to the boys that the staff were wrestling off each other and hoped it wouldn't escalate further than that. Thankfully after being separated the fiasco ended, and everyone felt more at ease to finish their meal.

Sara attempted to encourage him. "Don't worry, doesn't happen all the time."

Harry looked over at Danny who mouthed, "Yes it does." His insides squirmed.

As dinner ended Harry idled around the cafeteria as he waited for his medications. Harry noticed they were paying more attention in particular to Danny, who exaggerated an 'ah!' so that the staff could check inside his mouth. Harry's medications weren't all that special looking, and he felt on the spotlight as the nurse watched him take a drink. After choking only once, he threw his cup away and followed his new friends back to the table until everyone was done. He let the two talk his ears off, not really wanting to be a part of the conversation. He had not idea who anyone was they were talking about. He almost cried in relief when the staff announced it was time to return back to the dorms. Harry was even shocked he managed to be the first one in the shower.

"Hey, Harry, do you want to play cards with us?" Danny asked as he left the loo.

"Um, no, I think I'm going to turn in." Harry felt terrible but was completely done with the day. The night staff took over for Nate and the other male caregiver and he wanted nothing to do with anyone else new. Harry fled to his room shut the door, leaving the light on for Danny. He jumped when the door opened again.

"Harry, you good?" it was Nate. "I'm leaving and want to update the overnight staff."

"Yeah, fine."

"All right then, let them know if something comes up. See you tomorrow."

Harry nodded and found himself sitting alone in the room. His mind wanted to sleep but his body kept squirming. He buried himself under the covers and crowded as close as he could to the wall, hoping to fall asleep. The boys outside the door were getting very involved with their game, and Harry sighed as it made him think about the night at the party. He just wished he could run away from everything.


	18. Assault

**Yay more chapters!**

Over the next few days, Harry came to realize that no matter where he went in his life, there was always going to be a Dudley and a Malfoy. Crammed against a bookshelf and a row of desks, Harry became the new target of Ethan and Wyatt during the school hours. Not only was he ridiculed by his lack of knowledge of basic mathematics, but he became aware that his overall demeanor shouted 'wimp'. Naturally, Harry would have defended himself in any other situation, but without the help of his friends Ron and Hermione, or anyone for that matter, he felt very alone. That and he was trying his best to do good in order to leave the facility on time. Ethan appeared to have had a drug abuse problem in the past...he was very thin and his teeth had seen better days. The tattoo sleeve on his left arm was pocketed with scars. Wyatt had a much more normal presentation, boasting about how his family was wealthy and had multiple properties in India. Everyone knew it was a crock of shit, but whatever Wyatt said, went.

Harry was proud of himself for moving up to a yellow over the next week. Nate fist bumped him and he couldn't help but smile at how excited the man was. It did not last long, of course.

Harry had made a beeline from the school downstairs to meet up Danny and his friend Clyde. Clyde only had a few more weeks left of treatment, and already he was rubbing it in with the two of them. Danny gave him a punch in the stomach anytime he mentioned it.

"Hey, Harry," said Clyde sarcastically. "Ready for Emotions Management?"

"Whatever, as long as it isn't Grief Support again. That one was rough."

Danny laughed. "Well, every time I have Anger Management I feel like breaking a chair."

Harry couldn't help but laugh himself, and the three of them marched across the grounds to Building E where a group of residents were filed in by the adjunct therapist Mr. Marks.

"Quickly, quickly! The sooner in, the sooner out!"

Harry liked Mr. Marks a lot. He reminded him of Mr. Flitwick with his witty remarks and bouncy demeanor. Danny just called him Mr. Poof.

"All right now, take a seat! Three to a table, different set up today."

Harry noticed a group of small tables bunched together with craft supplies. Harry managed to snag a table with Danny, but before Clyde could sit down, Wyatt ripped the chair away from his reach and sat down. Harry's insides squirmed uncomfortably.

"Oh, sorry there, lad. Why don't you try the table over there with the meth heads. Suits your type. I have a word I need with Mr. Danny here."

Clyde looked as if he was going to explode. Danny chimed in, "It's fine, Clyde. We'll talk to you at lunch."

Harry wished that of all the times the man picked a fight, he wouldn't have chosen to lose this one. He was also trying his best to avoid Wyatt's sneering smile.

"So," Wyatt started. "Where is my fucking cigarettes? I was supposed to get four of them. Isn't that what I loaned to you?"

"Yeah, yeah, well my folks haven't mailed me any. Obviously I can't leave the campus and get them myself!"

"Have your dorm lead buy them when he goes to get supplies. He has your money!"

Danny shrugged his shoulders. "We don't get along."

Harry could see Wyatt's face changing colors, and he was very grateful that the session had now started.

Mr. Marks herded the rest of the group into the chairs and began passing out National Geographic and Travel magazines to each table. "All right, my friends. Today we are talking about increasing our positive thoughts and creating distractions for those feelings we find brewing inside us, just before they escalate. A good skill to practice is similar to a Vision Board. We will be finding pictures that ignite a feeling of calm, thought, and even a comedic relief. You can place this in your skills book in your dorm and use it as a reflective piece for your treatment. What sorts of negative emotions would we be trying to keep at bay when we look at these images?"

The Hermione of the group, Edward was first to give an answer. "Anxiety, or anger."

"Very good! What image would you find, Edward, that would help you move past those feelings?"

Harry could hear Wyatt scoff and snigger, which he did his best to ignore.

Edward skimmed the magazine and found deer grazing off a mountain. Mr. Marks appeared very excited. "Yes! I want us to stop, take a moment, and think about the silence you might hear during this moment as if you were there. Imagine being that photographer...hearing the noise around, and the stillness needed to take the shot. This can help you to slow down the mind and meditate on this image. Very good!"

Harry did his best to follow directions. Not only did Wyatt attempt to grab any supply before he did, he could see the irksome smile that was always on the man's face. Danny gave Harry a look that read, 'can you believe this idiot?'

Harry focused on cutting the magazine with children's scissors, which he learned earlier on was to prevent the cutters from hurting themselves. He found birds that reminded him of his owl, and a boat on the water, like they had done when he was eleven and arriving at Hogwarts for the first time. He even found a black dog that was running with its owner, and a lily flower. Through the chatter and laughter from the other tables, Harry noticed that his was very silent. Danny was ignoring the both of them and spent most of his time crudely cutting and mostly coloring funny faces on the people in the magazine. Harry stole a peek at Wyatt's, and noticed that barely anything was done, and instead was a poorly made origami swan. Everyone else seemed to be doing a much better job.

Harry began to glue his pictures on, and perhaps he had not made the best choices in images, because they instead made him very sad. Everything was either a memory or reminded him of someone who was dead. It was too late, he supposed, and began gluing them on the paper.

Mr. Marks was doing his rounds and made _tsk tsk_ sounds about his two partner's work.

"Harry, tell me about yours."

He nervously nodded. "Well, these remind me of important people in my life, and, um, can also look calm, I guess."

"What sort of negative feelings do you hope it eases for you?"

Harry wasn't sure...the images sort of caused negative feelings, but before he could speak, Wyatt threw himself into the conversation.

"Probably the ones that cause attention seeking cutters to rip up their arms, like that scar there!"

Harry realized he was pointing out the thick scar on his forearm where Peter Pettigrew sliced it open to get his blood. That night immediately flooded his mind, and he remembered Cedric dying. He remembered seeing his mother. Anger boiled inside of him.

"I'm not a fucking cutter!"

The room went quiet at once. Mr. Marks jumped to attention. "Enough, Wyatt, you will not be here to trigger the other residents. I need you to remove yourself and sit in the back of the room."

"It's not my fault he's loony. He just doesn't want to admit it." Wyatt met his eyes and smiled. "A flower? What is that for, your girlfriend?"

Harry couldn't see anymore. The rage that had been penned up inside of him lashed out. "SHUT UP!" He jumped up and found himself kicking the table over onto Wyatt, who tumbled to the floor. Harry reached for the table legs so that he could kick the man underneath of it, but he was shocked when hands wrapped around his wrists and yanked him back.

"Mate, don't!" It was Danny. Harry fought him but the man's hands were firm, crossing Harry's arms so that he couldn't move them. He barely heard Mr. Marks calling for assistance on the radio.

Wyatt emerged from the wreckage pretending to be injured. "I told you he was crazy! I need to see the nurse!"

"Stay where you are, Mr. Wyatt. Ladies and gents, please move to the room next door and bring your supplies. Harry, Danny, stay here please."

Harry was fuming. While the class was removed he continued to fight his friend off, irritated that he would not let him rail on the man who insulted him.

In an instant, Nate and another tech entered the room, huffing from their run.

Nate motioned for Wyatt to get up. "Go with him to the nurse if your saying you need it."

"You should really lock him-"

"I SAID GO!"

As soon as the man limped out, Danny let him go. In a roar of frustration, Harry bolted to the table and threw it again at the wall. It was like his outrage in Dumbledore's office.

Nate blocked his path from reaching the table again, and held his hands out as if show him he wasn't going to try and hold him back. "Enough, Harry, you're done, all right?"

Harry yelled in the man's face. "First, he calls me a cutter, then he insults the people I care about! The ones who are dead! He's a fucking-!"

"HEY!" Nate interjected. "I'm not talking about what Wyatt did. Knowing Wyatt it was dirty and uncalled for, but this is your reaction! That is all I care about."

Harry paced around angrily, feeling very wild and unmanageable. Danny was trying to keep his distance. "I've been ignoring him all week, Nate. I had enough!"

Nate lowered his voice. "You have been very strong, Harry. I understand this has been your breaking point. It is normal after everything you have been through to come here. But I need you to calm your voice and your body so that we can talk it out."

"I don't want to talk about anything!"

Nate's eye contact did not waver. "Then relax, and when you are ready, you can return to your schedule. For now, you need to come with me to Blue. Understood?"

Harry felt his seething mood shift from Wyatt to himself. He messed up. Danny glanced at Nate, who instructed him to return to his session.

"Harry, I need you to set up the table again. I will help you, but we need to fix it."

He nodded mutely. Harry still found himself shaking, and when the table was just as it was before, he was lead out the door toward the main courtyard.

After all his attempts to remain on good terms, Harry was beginning to truly realize he had a problem...as much as he wanted to say he could deal with his life, it became clear that if he had acted that way outside of Dartford, he would have already been back in jail. Nate did not say a word until they reached the blue building at the end of the campus. Harry had never seen what the quiet rooms looked like. Nate led him to the closest door, and inside were a pile of beanbags and a twin sized bed. There were obvious dents in the walls.

"Harry, I hate to do this, but you need to go back to red."

"But, I just earned it!"

"I'm sorry, but that was a huge deal what you did. Especially if Wyatt was hurt."

He scowled. "You know he was faking."

"It doesn't matter. You're here for an hour." Nate clipped the yellow band off his wrist and cinched on another red. It felt as if he had disappointed him.

Harry went into the room and shoved himself into the pile of beanbags, angrily brooding over how much he hated Wyatt. Nate shut the door and he heard the click of the lock. Through the side panels of plexi glass, he watched his dorm lead walk away, and again he felt very alone. He began to really miss being with Ron and Hermione. He'd give anything to be able to walk through Diagon Alley again, or wander around Hogsmeade Village. He wanted to fly and play Quidditch with Ginny, but he was stuck sitting in a residential treatment facility, moping about losing his yellow status. After about fifteen minutes, his anger turned to sadness, then sadness turned to understanding. He knew he could do better. Harry felt a sense of empowerment return to him, and he realized that one bad day didn't mean it was the end of it all.

He was let out just before lunch. The groups lasted two hours, and he made it just until the end. Nate, however, knew it was best just to avoid sending him back.

"I'll take you to the lunch room. We will wait until everyone comes to eat. Just so you are aware, Mr. Birch will want to speak to you this afternoon to go over today's event."

"Fine." he muttered. He was not entirely angry about it. He was beginning to not mind going to therapy with the man. It was the first time he was able to openly talk about the Wizarding world with honest insight. His therapist's neutral personality made it easy to talk without worried about what the reaction would be.

Harry was able to get his food immediately, and he sat by the window he and his new friends typically sit at. Nate took this as the time for a pep talk.

"Did you manage to calm down after the fight with Wyatt?"

"Obviously."

"He's fine, you know? Just carrying around an ice pack."

"I told you."

"Look, I am happy that you have the courage to stand up for yourself. Not many people can handle Wyatt. I think he knows now that he can't bother with you anymore. He likes the ones who shy away. Let's just make sure that we can work on expressing assertiveness without tossing a table, yes?"

Harry let a smirk cross his face.

"Seriously, here it gets you stripped of your status and locked in a quiet room. Outside these gates, that's a charge of assault. Hear me?"

"Yes, I know." Harry shifted uncomfortably in the chair and picked at his noodles. He could see groups of people begin to flood out of the buildings, and Nate moved to allow them in.

Harry didn't see Danny or Sara come in, but soon they had snaked their way through the crowd with their food. He avoided Danny's face.

"Mate, I didn't know you had it in you! Don't get me wrong, it was pretty awesome."

Sara was confused. "What happened?" She looked at his arm. "Harry, you're a red? I thought you made it up to yellow?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, things happen."

Danny reached over to give Harry a playful push on his shoulders. "Harry here, bless his heart, overturned a table onto Wyatt's face. You should have been there!"

Sara's face appeared alarmed. "What? Harry!"

"Don't worry, I stopped him before he beat him to a pulp. Even though he deserves it."

Harry felt shame cross his face. It was as if Hermione were scolding him.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I can't believe you did that! You're too sweet to act like Greg or Ethan."

Harry was surprised to hear she thought he was sweet. Moody was more like it. Danny heard her too.

"Hey, keep it down lady. If Mr. Birch hears you say that he'd have something to say about it."

"Ugh, dammit Danny, not everything I say is predatory!"

"Well, I won't say anything about how I saw you giving a big old smooch on Clyde."

Harry smirked at Sara's face. "How did you hear about that?"

"Men boast about that kind of stuff, love."

Sara didn't say much after that. Harry finished his lunch and turned to people watching. Danny wandered off to tell others about Harry's triumph over Wyatt's bullying. He admitted that he was conflicted over the whole event. He stood up for himself. On the other hand, he definitely could have handled it differently.

Somehow, Harry was allowed in the rec room. He realized this was going to be his only day there that week. He learned he was amazing at ping pong. He wasn't entirely surprised as it was like catching a Snitch. He managed to get cigarettes beating other residents, and the rec staff would keep an eye on him outside as he smoked his victory. Naturally, the fun ended after a couple hours when Nate informed him that Mr. Birch was ready to see him.


	19. Scars

**You might be wondering...why the heck is this chapter so short? This is crazy...well, the reasoning is, this chapter is the turning point for Harry understanding the way he perceives himself. I felt keeping it the way it is, and not letting it get muddled in a whole page, was the best for the story. So, here you go!**

"What _really_ bothered you about what happened today, Harry?"

Harry said nothing for a moment while he crinkled Fall colored tissue paper into pieces. He and Birch were using a craft while processing the event earlier, which would turn into a large Maple leaf after every tissue paper was glued. He had explained to Birch about Wyatt making everyone think he was cutting, how the man just over all was too much. But Birch was right, there was more.

"I am assuming it is a memory?"

Harry nodded. "Yes," he replied softly. "This scar is from a knife. When I was brought to the graveyard by the Death Eaters, they had instantly killed another boy from the school. He had done nothing wrong. We were going to win the competition together...I wanted to be fair."

"Your intentions were good, Harry. You meant no harm to come of him."

"Yes, but it did not happen that way. I saw him die because he wasn't supposed to be there. They took my blood from me, and they rose Voldemort back."

Harry ripped the paper up harder than he wished to. "It's the only scar I am ashamed of...and I have to look at it every damn day."

Mr. Birch held his thought for a moment. The man himself was doing a craft, and Harry watched him with curiosity.

"Regret and shame are soul-eating emotions, Harry. But just like any other, they serve a purpose. They tell you that if you could have done something in that moment, you would have done so to save that boy. It shows you have a good heart, and those close to you are incredibly lucky."

Harry's eyes filled with tears but he blinked them away. "I've never thought about it that way."

"When a negative thought plagues us, it is best to change the way we think of it. A tree is a tree. To one child it is pirate's keep. To another, it's the scary monster in a thunderstorm. And as I said...a tree is a tree."

Harry thought hard. "I can change the meaning of this scar, then?"

"If it means to rise above the reason you have it."

"Well, I got this, and he was going to kill me. But I got away. And in the end, I was the one who killed him instead."

For the first time, Mr. Birch's eyes seemed saddened, but he melted back into his usual calm, and smiled. "Exactly. That is your trophy, not your shame."

Harry felt liberated in a way after the session. When he got dressed for bed that night, he found every scar he could find, and found ways to change them. The locket that had dug into his chest...was the triumph of Ron's friendship. The snake's bite on his other arm, the power of Neville. Harry found every tiny mark, every memory and altered it. He found himself staring at the one that started it all. Harry brushed back his wet hair from the shower to reveal the lightning bolt, dead now from any pain. What could he say of it? As of now it targeted him publicly. That scar was the reason he avoided Diagon Alley. It was what had defined him his entire life, whether he knew it or not. Harry wanted to say, 'defeater of Voldemort,' but the identity it gave him contradicted his feelings. So many had died in order to vanquish the evil the wizard brought to the world. He could not take the title alone.

He knew that this scar would have to wait.

 **Thanks for readings this short but important chapter!**


	20. Quick Update

**I have had some family complications over the past couple weeks, and as of today we have lost a family member. I will do my best to keep up with writing and I think I will be much better soon and get back on track. Thank you for waiting, I truly appreciate it.**


	21. Reunited

**I am baaaack! Thank you all for the condolences. Amongst the sadness we have felt after a family member passing, my new husband and I went to Disneyland and California Adventure for our Honeymoon! And, of course, I got a cold during this time and still fighting it. But I promised you a chapter so here it is!**

As the days turned into a full month, Harry admitted that he saw positive changes. His mood remained neutral on most days with the medication and therapy sessions, unless he was aggravated at Wyatt or depressed about a topic in group. Several times he had to take breaks during Grief Support because he felt ashamed of his feelings. He didn't want to talk about Sirius. He didn't want to talk about Remus, or the scores of dead over the past 20 years. He saved that for Mr. Birch until he was ready. The treatment centre had received a grant for a music program, which was an instant sensation. Harry decided on guitar over the piano an hoped that one day he would be able to play it enough to become good and add it to his skill journal. He already had a list:

Running a lap around the track

Asking to see Mr. Birch

Focus on a picture

Guitar

Ask to go to Blue

Breaths

Muscle tightening

Harry found that he was actually pretty good at track. He ran faster than Danny, who now attempts to trip him every time instead. He only managed to careen into one of the hurdles by accident and sported himself a rather impressive abrasion on his knee.

Clyde was gone by this time, and Danny found out he was running out of friends, except for Harry and Sara, of course.

Harry teamed up with him to play table tennis. "So, how long do you have left? I think you have been here longer than everyone."

Danny shrugged. "I dunno. Don't care to know. Honestly, I like being here than outside...too many bad folks where I come from. I'm just here until court tells me to go. Never I hope."

Harry could not believe his ears. "Don't tell me you sabotage just to stay."

Danny pretended to hush him. "Don't let Birch know!" he laughed. "Seriously though, I don't like what I was. I also don't like going back to my old life any time soon. I wasn't a very nice person, you know?"

For once Harry actually missed the ball and he dove to pick it up. Danny did a victory dance. "You realize you don't have to really go back, right? Tell that to the courts and see if you can be set up somewhere else."

"Empty promises, mate. Heard it all before. This is the only promise that actually turned out great. I don't know why people try to AWOL from this place. There's food, beds, meds, and girls! What else would you need?"

Harry laughed.

/

He had mild altercations with Evan now that Wyatt had moved on to easier prey. Thankfully they were minor episodes and Harry had managed to move up again to a yellow.

"How has your sleep been Harry?" Dr. Blankenship asked.

"Dunno...I fall asleep but don't stay asleep."

"Are you able to drift off again after a short time?"

He nodded. The dreams were few and far between, but when they did rip him from his sleep, Harry became incredibly embarrassed. Danny wanted to charge him for the amount of times he woke him up in a panic.

"Tell me about your anxiety."

"It's still there but fading a bit."

"Anger?"

"I have it when I'm triggered, but not at myself as much."

Dr. Blankenship smiled at him with pride. "Making strides, Harry. What do you think you need right now?"

Harry stared off but just shrugged. "I'm still depressed and feeling guilty."

"Just remember, medicine can't fix everything. I can't make you unfeel the world. Keep going with your groups and sessions and that hurt will become less."

Harry thought about this as he went through group that day. The hardest, he knew, was doing the opposite of what he felt...especially when he knew it was his guilty conscience and not truth. How could he find anything happy in complete misery? He was given a task to look at a flooded village, obliterated by debris and water. How was he to find hope in this? He saw the tree, standing tall and strong amongst the current, and Mr. Marks asked him to find the positive. Harry knew he was supposed to be witnessing strength, but all he saw was himself...pulled away in the flood of the life he didn't ask for. He felt like that tree often, and in his opinion, the tree was not strong, it was hanging on for life. Mr. Birch encouraged him when Harry explained the project, but he could feel himself sliding into another bout of misery.

The second week of October faded away, and the weather was definitely chilly. The day was cast with heavy clouds and physical education was put on hold. Instead Harry and the rest of Maple and Ash had a 'Rainy Day' session in the building near the track playing indoor sports and games. Feeling tired from not sleeping well, Harry decided to do a 300 piece puzzle. Danny was out egging on his competitors doing relay races. A poor 32 year old with a bad knee kept falling.

Sara wanted Harry to play chess with her, and before she could finish the sentence he cut her off to decline. Too many memories with chess.

It must have been the weather, but Harry knew something was different about today. It was confirmed when Aaron popped his head in and scanned the crowd until his eyes landed on Harry.

"Hey, come with me. People to see you."

Harry felt a lurch in his stomach...the same uncomfortable feeling when the Goblet of Fire spit out his name. He left his puzzle unfinished and followed Aaron out the door and into the cold.

"Who is it?"

"I wasn't told. Front desk just asked to come get you. I will put you in the family room. There are couches and such in there to meet in."

Harry felt sick.

He had a good right to be. Aaron scanned the key and the door unlocked loudly. He followed the man down the hall to a door near the front desk.

"Here you go."

Harry froze. Hermione, Ginny, and Ron all turned to look at him. He didn't know what to do.

"HARRY!" Ginny squealed as she leaped over the couch and gave him a crushing hug.

Aaron laughed and said he would be back when they were done. Harry wanted to leave with him.

"Hi, Gin," he whispered softly, feeling very awkward. Hermione embraced him more gently, and Ron remained seated grinning widely.

"Sorry we didn't visit sooner, mate, but Kingsley thought it was best we gave you time to settle in. It's been torture!"

Harry sat stiffly on the edge of the couch and Hermione tried to get him to relax. "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley wanted to come too, but they didn't want to overwhelm you with everyone. They both miss you."

Harry wanted to ask, "are they mad?" but he couldn't get a word out.

Ginny gave him another hug, one much more gentle. "How are you in this place? It looks nice on the outside."

Harry wanted to shy away from her. "It's been fine. Better than jail."

"Oh, good." Hermione said. "I was afraid of it being an awful place."

Harry shrugged. "Depends on who I am with."

Ginny reached over and played with the band on his arm. "What does that mean?"

"I get some extra privileges but not as much as the greens. Red is the lowest."

"Have you ever been red?"

"Most of the time."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Really? Why?"

Harry picked at a spot on his arm where pen ink bled in, trying to avoid her eyes. "Fights. Being overall miserable."

He could hear her sigh.

Ron chimed in, trying to be encouraging. "You'll be out soon. Then we can get back to the way it used to be. The Quidditch pitch at our house is still there, you know?"

Harry faked a smile. He didn't know why he was so tense. Every lonely part of him wanted to reach out to his friends and hold them tight. They were the only people who truly loved him...but why could he not feel it?

Ginny filled in the silence. "So, what sort of things do you do here?"

"Lots of groups. I go to school to catch up so that when I am done I can work. I see a person I talk to, and a doctor."

Ron gave a disgusted face. "Well, how about for fun?"

Harry managed a small smile. "We have a recreation room and I have met a couple friends. They are catching me up on films and music that I have obviously missed out on. I can't leave the campus unless I am a longstanding green."

"What are 'groups'?" asked Ginny.

"Yeah," Ron added. "They sound awful."

Hermione gave a sharp look.

"Well, we have projects and talk about stuff. Usually about why we are here and how to deal with it."

Hermione beamed. "That seems real great, Harry. I heard Kingsley spoke to the therapist and he knows all about the Wizarding World. That must be helpful!"

Harry nodded slightly. He was really hoping she would not ask about what sort of terrible things he talked to Mr. Birch of. Above all, he was very confused, assuming that they were there only to show him how angry they were when he left.

"Um..well," he said. "How is everyone?"

Ron went first. "Mum and Dad are doing really well. Dad got a raise at the Ministry for his work in the Order, AND, our family was honored by Kingsely himself. There is a huge statue at the Ministry going out to the families who died, and Fred was listed! We couldn't be happier about that! Did you hear that they might make us all into Witches and Wizards cards? That is the most wicked thing I have ever heard!"

Hermione chimed in. "Yes, and I got my parents back! They are living in our old house and I had to tell them what had happened. They understand, but, obviously were a bit addled about how I could do that."

Ginny went into detail about Professor McGonnagall's work with the Ministry to restore Hogwarts to its best so that the next year's students could attend. A Memorial was set in front of the gates honoring the battle. The Ministry was also even allowing students to access the Restricted Section for the first time in Hogwart's history. "People have really come around, Harry." she said. "They know all what you did for everyone...what we all did...people are moving on with their lives one day at a time."

Harry could not fathom what he was feeling. He should be rejoicing at what he was hearing...his old self would have. He knew that instead of possible reeking disgust he had in his chest, the news would have filled the many holes grief had given him. The three of them excitedly proclaimed that the world he left was rebuilding and 'moving on', yet it caused Harry increasingly frustrated and angry. The world that had pushed him away were now abruptly thankful. Not only that, they were thanking his failures and grief. Of all that they had gone through nothing was enough to bring it back or fix what was broken. Nothing was left to give back that was stolen away. The world was moving on, and here Harry was, continuing to melt away in shame without feeling any sense of redemption. Rewards were given to him for causing the deaths of innocents like Fred and Cedric? The thought sickened him. He knew Mr. Birch would say 'this is your guilt talking,' and he understood this now, but it shifted him to a very dark place. The darkness always swallowed him up to the point where he felt as though he was locked in a silent room with no windows or doors. Harry was suffocating in himself.

"IT'S STUPID WHAT THEY ARE DOING!" Harry shouted. "They are applauding us for something we did not ask for! We gave _everything_ and they never said anything until _they_ made the mistake!"

Ron, Hermione and Ginny froze, bewildered by his sudden outrage.

"Mate," Ron whispered. "What do you mean?"

Harry's breath was heated, as sign he knew meant he needed to use the skills he learned. His mind drew a blank at what to do. "I will not accept credit for something so terrible. The very idea of it sickens me, and now they want to put us on Wizarding cards?"

Hermione noticed his behavior and responded with calmness. "They are placing credit where it is due, Harry. They are acknowledging the pain we went through and asking for forgiveness." Her eyes softened. "I want you to forgive yourself."

"IT WON'T MAKE IT BETTER!" he shouted. "Just like these pitiful moves by the Ministry to apologize."

Hermione did not waver. "It is not supposed to fix it, Harry. Nothing can. We realize this, just as you do, but we know when someone is trying to make something right. I accept it because I, too, need to carry on with my life."

"I had hated myself Harry for leaving the two of you in the forest." Ron mumbled. "I kept thinking if I hadn't...well, you know. But I can't keep thinking about it or I will drive myself mad."

Ginny reached out to hold his hand. "And we are not angry that you left us, Harry."

He ripped his hand out of hers and grabbed his hair roughly. "I CAN'T DO IT! I WANT TO BUT I CAN'T!"

Ginny made a move to embrace him but Hermione pulled her back, cautious of what it would cause him to do.

The door to the room opened halfway and a staff named Kevin from the Ash dorm made eye contact with him, soft but stern. "Harry, if you are going to have a visit I can't have you doing this."

Harry anger was not relieved by the threat. "I am done with it anyway! I want to go back phys ed."

He ignored Ginny's face full of disappointment, which turned quickly to irate redness her mother always exhibited. "Harry, you can't chase us away because you don't want to talk about it!"

"I'm done!" he repeated loudly.

"Gin, enough." Ron warned. "He is not ready."

Hermione stood up and guided Ginny to the door. Kevin moved to let them out and Ron gave a quick wave. "See ya, mate."

Harry's fuming anger increased when Kevin softly shut the door so that it was just the two of them in the room.

"Do you want to talk about it, Harry?"

"No, Kevin, I don't!" he snapped.

The man did not move. "I need to make sure I do not send you back there angry like this. I want you to keep your status."

"It doesn't matter! I don't care if I am red the rest of my time here!"

The man did not budge. "Yes you do, Harry. Let's walk to phys ed and hopefully you can calm down the way there."

Harry felt like a child. "I want to see Mr. Birch."

Kevin shook his head. "Today is Monday, remember? The therapists are at a training in London. If you want I can put you into Blue."

"Forget it, phys ed then."

Kevin informed Nate through the radio that Harry was coming back. The man took one look at him when he barged into the room yelling at Sara for doing his puzzle and pointed to the track.

"Harry, 2 laps."

Harry fumed at Nate for forcing him to use a coping skill and let out a frustrated growl before taking off to run. He burned out his anger at the Ministry for not believing him and letting the Daily Prophet slander his name. Harry ran to get rid of the hate he had for Umbridge who forced him to mutilate his own hand for telling the truth. He sped down the track, loathing himself and his weakness. Everyone else could carry on with life, and here he was, stewing in self pity. If only Snape had seen him now.

Harry returned, huffing and puffing, still flustered. Nate met him at the door.

"Better?"

He shrugged miserably.

"Kevin said you were yelling at your visitors. What made you so upset?"

"I don't want to talk about it!"

Nate held out his hands in mock defense. "No problem. Apologize to Sara and continue with your puzzle. Take another run if you need it. I want you to keep that yellow status."

Harry mumbled an apology to her, which she accepted gently. He could tell she was legitimately hurt, but her sweetness refrained herself from holding a grudge. Harry really had no idea why she was even there.

The rain came eventually in the early afternoon. Harry was finishing up in Grief Support, which he ended up spending most of the time in Blue. Harry was embarrassed by his behavior, but he could not handle one more trigger forcing himself to think about the death of those he loved, let alone the loved ones of the other resident's. He knew he could of just asked to go to Blue, but instead he let himself go, angrily snapping at Mr. Somal leading the group.

"I am NOT saying ANYTHING!"

The group tensed.

"Harry," the man warned. "It is simply your turn. Normally I allow you to pass but today I am asking that you share something."

Harry did not remember all the names he called the group or the man, but it was very regrettable. His wristband was cut off and he was once again locked in a room with beanbags and silence. Through the plexi glass Nate and Kevin asked him to calm himself but Harry felt as if he was not in his own body. He raged at the walls, on himself in any way he could. The doors flew open and he was dragged out. Nate crossed Harry's arms around his body, seating him to the floor, while Kevin leaned over his legs. He couldn't move and it only made him escalate more. He screamed at them to let him go.

Nate responded without emotion. "You will be released when your breathing is calm, your body is relaxed, and you claim you will no longer need a restraint for self harm."

Harry fought them and he knew it was a losing battle. "I don't fucking care!" He screamed. "Just let me go and off myself so I can get out of this miserable life!"

But neither said anything. They remained mute despite his shouts and insults. After about 20 minutes Harry felt his body's energy drain quite suddenly after his panic began to fade. At 25 Nate calmly asked if he no longer needed a restraint, confirming that they felt his body and breath relax. Harry muttered a yes and was released. After a check by the nurse for any injuries during the restraint, Harry asked to be left into Blue.

"You will but a staff will be watching you through the glass. And staff shadow will continue for the next three days."

Harry about died inside. Suicide watch again. As he laid on the bed, wrapped in the blankets, he wished that he could see his mother again. He missed her gentle voice when she said that they had never left. Was she looking down at him now, wishing that he was with her?

" _I should have gone on that train."_ he thought, remembering the day he died. He fell fitfully asleep hearing her words and imagined what it would feel like when they would embrace.


	22. Moving Forward

**Don't worry, the emo Harry makes a turn around, I promise!**

Harry felt shameful about his behavior. Every time Nate and himself made eye contact he quickly looked away as if doing so would allow him to avoid the disappointment. He was in the red again, and Mr. Birch asked him to process the event.

"I don't know why I acted like that." he responded. "I just did."

"Your friends...they were here to see you after you disappeared for months. Do you not believe that they had a right to see you?"

Harry sighed harshly. Of course he knew they had a right to see him. "I just...didn't expect it. I did not know what to say. They kept talking about how they were moving on and that the Ministry was rewarding us." He described his anger towards the Ministry itself, about how they never believed what he said, and now that they had, it was too late to change anything.

Mr. Birch said nothing for a moment. "Listen, Harry, you know personally that what is done is done. Guilt has proven this to you. Your Ministry is working through their own guilt. The difference is that they are fixing their mistakes and moving on."

Harry's anger flared. "I tried to do that and everyone denied me! I wanted to help the families recover, donate money to fix the school...anything, and I couldn't!"

"That is where I can help you."

Harry was confused.

"We have no manner in which to reach out to your world other than your lawyer. Under my suggestion, I will make sure that in order to bring you closure we can come to some sort of way for you to give back."

"I.." Harry mumbled. "I want to do that. Even if I have to see Kingsley again."

"Do you understand a possible reason as to why they did not want you to do anything, Harry?"

"They said that it wasn't my place. I had already given so much."

Mr. Birch smiled. "Exactly. Think about what you had lost in order to do what you did to save your world. To have you do any more was an insult to you and your friends, in the eyes of the Ministry. Is this more clear?"

Harry sighed and stared off towards the bookcase. He supposed, deep inside him, that he understood what Mr. Birch and his friends were saying. He found himself in such denial that becoming furious at the entire Wizarding world had been the only thing to do.

"You know this, Harry. You always have. I am just asking you to lower your wall that you have made in order to accept the possibility of forgiveness to them and yourself."

He felt the wall, in almost a physical sense. His mind shut off the second it attempted to show the truth. "I realize it's there." he said softly. "But I think that if I try to 'break it down', or whatever, I will have to deal with it. I don't want that."

Mr. Birch smiled. "That, my friend, is every single person's struggle. It is a combination of Radical Acceptance and overcoming a negative emotion by doing the opposite. You already know what to do, but your defenses are what control you have left."

"You want me to let go of that control?"

"Change is difficult. You will find a way to gain control again. If this were easy, no one would be here. The only reason why we fail, Harry, is because we limit ourselves every day. Have you been working on your breathing and mindfulness?"

Harry nodded. "I like the one where I close my eyes and just feel what I am sitting on and shut down my brain."

"Are you doing this every day?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes."

"A good time, I always say, is in bed or in Blue, of course."

Harry grinned. He really enjoyed talking to Mr. Birch. Everything just made complete sense and the man held him accountable. Every time Harry failed the man was there to patiently guide him back. He felt as if everyone he had lost was back in the man, encouraging him day after day.

The session was over, and Mr. Birch gave him homework as he was heading towards the door. "Mr. Somal may need an apology, as I am sure you are aware."

Harry nodded slightly, frowning with guilt.

"Do that, and do not be afraid to share a thing or two in group. I cannot be the only person you confide in, and you will be surprised about the kind of support you can get from your fellow residents."

"Okay. Um...when are you going to tell Mr. Willow?"

"I will call him today and we can have a meeting with Mr. Kingsley. If you wish I can invite you."

Harry smiled and left the office. He almost did not mind that he had to go back to English class. Ethan tried to bother him again by flinging bits of paper at the side of his face, but Harry's mind was elsewhere and feeling much more eager to see what the future would hold.

Staff shadow, although tiresome, allowed Harry to feel more comfortable sharing in group. When the staff saw him show any sign of anger or anxiety, he was reminded to follow his skills list. He was permitted to run the track one time and then come back to speak again. Even in Grief Support, he managed to discuss his late Headmaster.

"Those who have passed have had an impression on us, whether it be small or large," said Mr. Somal. "If there was one lesson that we learned from them, what would it be?"

Sara raised her hand. "My old friend Melissa helped me understand that even though I wasn't doing well in my life, that I was still a good person. She had always said so."

Harry noticed that she always spoke of Melissa, but never exactly how she had died. He assumed this is the type of avoidance Mr. Birch was talking about. Edward had shrugged helplessly at Mr. Somal and tried to get someone else to talk instead of him.

Harry raised his hand and Mr. Somal raised his eyebrow. "Oh, Harry, you have a story to add?"

He nodded, placing his hands stiffly into small fists to release the tension. "I had a Headmaster at my school who taught me a lot about finding the good in awful circumstances. He knew I could do anything even when I thought I failed."

Mr. Somal smiled. "He seems to have been a very strong, knowledgeable individual."

Edward spoke up. "How did he die?"

Harry shrunk as Mr. Somal hushed him. "That is for when our friends are ready, Edward."

"Well," Harry started. He wanted to say Dumbledore was murdered, but in reality... "He died in order to protect his students and his friends."

Edward legitimately appeared to want to get more information but Mr. Somal took control over the group. "Thank you for sharing, Harry. Take pride in your Headmaster and know that what he had done was brave and selfless."

Thankful that the group moved on to other topics, Harry's anxiety was alleviated. He realized that it really wasn't that bad, after all, but damn, why did it have to be twice a week?

It was a rather warm day for October. Harry sat at the smoking benches after a staff lit the cigarette and thought about how the visit with Kingsley would go once he came. He was really hoping that once Mr. Birch, a licensed professional, spoke to the Minister about his desire to help, it would finally give him a chance to clear up any guilt. Maybe it would be easier to see his friends. With more notice, of course.

"Hey, Harry," He turned and saw Sara walk up. "Can I sit with you? People I don't really like are playing the games I want to do in the rec room."

He smiled. "Yeah, sure."

Sara joked. "I don't know how you can smoke like that!" She waved off the vapors dramatically.

"Yeah, well, I don't know how you manage to stay in the green for so long."

Sara's smile faded slightly and she shrugged. "I really messed up, I guess. I never want to do it again so I am doing my best. Mr. Birch actually wants me to be yellow for once. Says that I am being too much of a perfectionist and not dealing with the issue."

Harry asked the question that was picking at him for some time. "Don't mean to be nosey, but why are you here? Everyone else I can see, but-."

Sara played with the hair tie she had on her wrist and was stretching it out. "Well, you know I talk about Melissa often, right?"

"Yeah, in every group."

"She really was my best friend. Eight years to be exact. I don't know if it was my parent's divorce, or my overall feeling of failing in life, but I became very uncontrollable. I was angry, I didn't care about my body and even prostituted myself just because I didn't care anymore. I learned how to use myself in order to feel loved, even though I knew it was fake. There was a boy that I did not realize was underage, thus one of the reasons why I am here. But the worst, Harry, is that I turned against Melissa. I was angry that she was pulling away from me so I seduced her boyfriend and when she caught us, as I knew she would, she drove off and went too fast over a curb. They say the impact killed her first and not the pole, but I don't know."

Harry couldn't believe what he heard. "Shit, Sara. I'm sorry."

Tears were pooling around her eyes, but they never fell down her face. "I don't want to be that person anymore, Harry. I stay in the green so that I feel that I am changing, but Birch is right...I am lying to myself."

"I am avoiding too." He had to figure out a way to say it. "A lot of people I was close to died and it was to make sure that I made it out. I know it was their choice to do so, but it doesn't make the guilt go away."

Sara said nothing at first. She watched him snuff out his cigarette before she spoke. "My parents haven't even called or visited me. Can you imagine that? Their own failure as parents made me, and they blame it all on me."

Harry realized the two different types of guilt both of them were feeling, each consuming the both of them. He gave her a brief hug. "They just forgot the real you."

Sara gave him a smile and the tears went away. "At least I'm not like Danny. He's here because of multiple charges of theft, drug abuse and trying to OD on purpose multiple times."

"Seriously?"

"All he feels guilty of is failing to OD."

Harry threw the cigarette away and stood up from the table. "Trust me, I see he's guilty about the dumb choices he's made. He actually likes it here, did you know that?"

Sara laughed. "Well, that's news to me."

"He's like someone I know," Harry said, thinking of Malfoy. "He acts like he's full of it but really has more insecurities than a teenage girl."

They were silent for a moment and Sara gave him a small smile. "You're a good person, Harry. I can always tell that in people."

Harry felt himself flush a bit, not expecting the compliment. "You really think so?"

"I usually don't have crushes on people who aren't."

He felt the blood drain from his face, just like when Cho Chang leaned in for a kiss. "You really shouldn't." he managed to say.

"You have someone else, then? I figured you would."

Harry sighed. "I've been pushing her away, hoping she would give up."

"But she's not?"

"No."

Sara stood up with him and headed back to the rec room, smiling, "She knows you aren't someone to lose, Harry Potter."

Harry smiled slightly, following her lead. Maybe she was right, after all. Girls always knew everything.


	23. Hardest Yet

**Thanks again. Just to remind readers the seriousness of severe PTSD. It can include nightmares, auditory hallucinations, and at the slightest trigger can cause a frenzy of various emotions. While it may be perceived 'annoying' what Harry is feeling, he is not irrational in a sense. PTSD can occur after a single horrific event. He has had multitudes of trauma and misery in life (as we are all aware), so give Harry some encouragement!**

Harry was nervous. It was 9:45 am, and in fifteen minutes he would have his session with Mr. Birch, and Kingsley was supposed to arrive any time. He was supposed to be working on his geometry assignment with several other students, but he hardly cared what the degrees were of the squares and circles. He only vaguely understood fractions due to potions class. Ms. Collins, the newly graduated teacher, reminded him several times to either raise his hand if he had a question, or quit staring around and get his work done. Instead he stole quick glances at the clock hoping the time would move faster just because he stared at it. Ms. Collins did another Umbridge-like 'ahem' and he faced his worksheet again, really trying hard not the start hating the woman. What if he just circled random letters A-D and perhaps it would be right?

The classroom phone rang and Harry perked up. Ms. Collins turned away from him. If he were Danny or Ethan, that would have been a very poor move.

"Yes, all right. Nate or Paul? Thanks."

Harry squeezed his pencil tightly as she turned around.

"Potter, Nate is coming to get you so that you can attend your session. Hurry and gather your things. Finish that work tonight, yes?"

Harry nodded and stuffed it all in his cinch bag. The new resident in Oak with the blondest hair he had ever seen, Sean, mumbled, "Smell you later." He wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a joke or not. He could see Nate jogging down the path with his dreds bouncing. He nearly always seemed to be on the move.

"It's day six of the week, Harry. You think you will be a yellow by the time I see you again?"

Harry laughed. "The whole lot of you are so obsessed with these colors. You're the only one thinking about it."

Nate gave him a sarcastic look. "Okay, say that to Danny now that he has finally earned enough time as a yellow to actually play a good game of Call of Duty. He never tasted freedom so good."

Instead of feeling anxious as he had thought, he in fact had a boost of confidence. Harry truly hoped that his therapist was on his side, and could advocate in Kingsley's presence. Only time could tell for sure.

Upon leaving the elevator, Nate guided him to the end of the L shaped hallway and announced their presence on Birch's half-open door.

"Let him in, thank you."

Nate took off, mouthing " _Yellow!"_ Harry rolled his eyes and went inside.

In the corner of his vision, Harry saw the man sitting on the opposite sofa, cross legged. Birch smiled softly and instructed him to his usual spot in front of him.

"Are you going to greet our guest, Harry?" Mr. Birch asked.

He glanced at Kingsley, who had a very pleased expression. "Hello, Minister."

The man waved him off. "No sense in propriety, Mr. Potter. Now, I am here because you had something to ask of me, and I would like to hear of it."

Harry felt a flick of anger, knowing full well that the man had already heard exactly what he was going to say—all months ago. Mr. Birch could see his face and what that meant.

"Firstly," he stated quickly. "I would like to tell Mr. Kingsley here about your progress. Do you mind?"

He shrugged and sagged deeper into the couch.

"Feel free to add anything you wish."

"I am sure he already knows."

Mr. Birch gave him a very stern 'we aren't going to go there' look before beginning. "Harry, here, has become acclimated very well now to Dartford. He knows his classes, groups and overall routine. He is also taking his medication, as he states, and is opening up more and more at each of our sessions. Please tell your Minister what you like best here, as a strength of yours."

Harry was unpleasantly irritated that he was forced to speak. "I like running the track. I'm catching up on school and films..stuff like that."

Mr. Birch acted as if he wasn't disappointed by his answer. "Harry works in group to find suitable skills to use when stressed, and to also use as routine to feel calm throughout the day as well. As a preventative measure. We have seen a spike in negative behavior in the past month, but we are working on that currently."

Harry could see Kingsley burning to hear more about what that meant, but the man remained silent.

"I understand that your government has taken on full responsibility to regain control following the end of the war," Birch noted. "Yet I do ask that you take time to listen to Harry's concerns that may help him move past his obstacles both here and in your world."

Kinglsey nodded. "I am here to listen."

"Harry, shall I leave this to you, or would you like me to ask?"

"He already knows what I want, you two were here talking and you sent him a letter." Harry said darkly.

Birch held his tone. "I sent a very vague phone call to your lawyer requesting your Minister. We merely became acquainted before you arrived. Remember, you are an adult now, not a minor. I cannot share your information without your consent."

Harry felt rather stupid now. He had forgotten how he wasn't surrounded by the Order any longer. "Well, er, I wanted to ask if..." he paused, thinking of how to phrase it.

"Remember, 'what' and 'why'." Birch hinted.

Harry nodded and glanced straight into Kingsley's eyes. "I really need to contribute to something in our world. A donation, a memorial, anything. I...I don't feel I can do any better here or anywhere if I can't."

The man stared at the floor, thoughtfully and said nothing at first.

"I realize that you think I shouldn't have to do anything," he added hastily. "But that doesn't matter to me. You never knew me as well as the others had, I know, but I take things personally, I admit. Me not being able to help felt as if I was pushed away. Being rewarded was even worse."

"Is that your barrier, Harry?" asked Kingsley.

"Is what?"

"Guilt. Or, survivor's guilt, we will say."

"I would say it is the largest hurdle for Harry at this time." Birch remarked. "It is the root of all the recent behavioral episodes, and the topic discussed in sessions. Do you agree, Harry?"

He nodded, not even ashamed any longer that was struggling. It was almost a validation.

Kinglsey paused and leaned back into the sofa, and meeting his eyes. No one spoke for a moment. "Forgive me, Harry, for being so blind. I had seen what war had taken from all of us, and I had to remove it from our young witches and wizards as much as I could as the new Minister. I did not listen to you. As you say, I am just like every other adult in your life, determining what was best for you."

Harry had to break the eye contact, feeling very triggered at the man's words.

"I need you to realize that we value your sacrifice, I will not revoke those words. You have earned every recognition, do not deny that. However, what failed was our assumptions, especially that of what you needed. Name it, Harry, and I will be sure to make whatever you wish happen, if it is to assist you in recovery."

His breathing became harder to control, but Harry focused hard on controlling it and his muscles in order to relax. A flood of wonderful relief fell upon him. For the first time since the war ended, it almost seemed as if the end of all the turmoil was finally closer.

"I really wanted to make a donation to the families who have lost loved ones. Witches, wizards, Muggles, I don't care. All of them. They did not deserve it. Especially the Weasley's."

The man smiled proudly. "It will be done."

Harry couldn't hold back a tearful smile, and Mr. Birch nodded in pride.

"I will, of course, need you and you alone to take your money out at Gringotts. We can establish the donation plan today, if you wish."

Harry's face fell, and he glanced at Birch with dismay.

"Don't look at me, Harry." He smiled. "I believe a yellow status will be made in a couple days, correct? How many more to get a green?"

"Ugh!" Harry groaned. "Seriously?"

"You are just like everyone else here, Harry. A green is earned. Once you have achieved this and can maintain it you will be permitted to leave the campus." Birch leaned over to his calendar. "Minister, I believe I can set an approximate date for this next month. If all goes well, he should qualify in four weeks."

Kingsley grinned. "A goal, then, Harry? I trust you can achieve it? Surely you have endured worse?"

Harry rolled his eyes and groaned again. Now he had to actually work on it?

"Oh," said the Minister suddenly. "The Weasley's, actually, wish to see you again, in hopes of a better meeting than before. Would you be more comfortable doing this at this time. With notice, of course."

Harry thought a moment. Birch had always spoken about his imaginary wall...he visualized it and imagined he was climbing over it slowly but surely. "I think I do. Maybe just a few at a time. I just need to be prepared."

"Yes, definitely," the man agreed. " I will let them know. When is a good day next week?"

Mr. Birch skimmed through Harry's schedule of the following week. "How about Tuesday at this time? You don't _really_ need to go to geometry again, do you?"

Harry grinned. "Never."

/

Harry felt elevated after the visit. He had seen the look in Kingsley's face that he always saw in Dumbledore when he had made a mistake. The regret was very real, and it definitely validated him. He had asked Mr. Birch what he should do when his friends arrived, trying now not to become so triggered by memories.

"You know what to do, Harry."

Harry refused. "I really don't."

"We have been over multiple times practicing detachment at a flare up of emotion, as well as anxiety relieving breaths. The day of the visit, pay particular attention to holding yourself accountable for the breathing and other skills despite the need for them. Why is that important?"

Harry sighed. "So that I am calm throughout the day."

"Yes. Detachment, I notice, is the most difficult for you. Immediate reaction of anger and anxiety can cause immense destruction. We have both seen this personally, yes?"

"I try, but the feeling comes first, then I think. I can't help it."

Mr. Birch smiled in comfort. "It is a skill, Harry. Even I myself can fail at this. Pausing, taking a breath, mentally feeling yourself removed, will help you fight it."

Harry felt his eyes tingling—a familiar sensation—and his throat tightened painfully. Mr. Birch waited for him to speak. "I hate it...there are so many times I needed to detach and I didn't. I was so impulsive...so angry...I wanted to harm something with rage."

"But you didn't."

Harry scoffed. "There were times I made a fool of myself."

"You yourself explained to me that the only murder you have ever physically committed, was that of Voldemort's death. Even so, he had caused it himself."

"I could have done it," he stated, almost despondent. He was seeing Bellatrix in his mind, taunting him ferociously, and he continued to see his cousin pinning him down and assaulting his ribs. "I wanted to. I was just too cowardly to actually do it."

Mr. Birch did not alter his calming voice when he replied, "How do you feel life would have changed if you had?"

Harry could not be certain. He hesitated to respond. "I don't know. In the moment, perhaps immense euphoria...that I actually helped bring down the murderers in the war."

"Outside of that?"

"What do you want me to say?" Harry moaned abruptly. He was becoming very tired all of a sudden.

"It does not matter what I want. Say it as it is."

He sighed deeply and focused miserably at a rather interesting trinket on the bookcase behind his therapist. Talking about murder was definitely not something he felt comfortable of.

"I don' know. I think it would bring brief pride, but I think, honestly, I would end up hating myself. I'd despise myself so much that I would have killed myself a long time ago."

No one made a sound for a moment. Harry could hear the ticking of the wall clock becoming intensified.

He finally heard Mr. Birch respond. "Listen to what you just said, Harry. Truly listen to it. Dumbledore found you to be very special, and it is clear why."

"I don't understand." He said miserably.

"Of all the weight that has fallen on your shoulders...neglect, harassment, loss, crushing pain, even manipulation from those you have loved, it has still left you pure. Given the chance to kill, you gave mercy." The man's voice became more adamant. "Men and women kill over a traffic ticket. Do you comprehend what I am saying to you, Harry?"

His nod came with muteness, but he was honest. "Sometimes I wish I had done it. I don't care about the Dursley's when I say that."

"Who did you wish to kill the most?" Harry gave him a meaningful stare, and he man nodded. "Bellatrix?"

"Yes."

"What do you want to do to her, Harry?"

Harry was thrown off by the question. "W...What?"

His therapist did not hesitate. "We are processing this feeling. What would you want to do to her?"

Images came quickly into Harry's mind, ones that he had thought upon frequently. All from the simple to the most horrific. "Everything."

The statement did not satisfy Mr. Birch. "Tell me exactly what you would do to her if she were standing right here in this room."

Frustrated tears pooled in Harry's eyes. Why would Birch want him to say this? "Sometimes I had ideas of just getting rid of her...a quick spell to knock her falling to her death. Other times I wanted to stab her with the sharpest knife possible until her blood was all over me."

The man held firm. "How many times?"

Tears were now falling down Harry's face, now having the ability to look the man eye to eye. He felt the hatred again. "Until she died. Then I would do it again at least ten times."

"Would she have said anything to you?"

"No." he said darkly. "She wouldn't have the time."

"What would you say to her as she lay dying?"

Harry searched his mind for an answer. "I would just look at her, pleased at myself."

"If your friends had seen this...Mrs. Weasley, for example...what would she say to you after that moment?"

Harry's heart squeezed painfully. Startled, he stared at the man in bewilderment. What was the man playing at? "I...I don't know."

"Tell me."

Harry's heart began beating fast, pounding, actually. He could almost feel it under his sweating skin. "It feels shameful!"

Birch did not move, ignoring Harry's comment. "What does she say to you?"

A slight moan of grief came from his lips, attempting to hold back the flood breaking through. "She will have said, 'Who are you? Get out of my life! You're no better than a Death Eater!'" With that, he let out another sob.

Mr. Birch held his silence for a brief moment. The man began breathing in slowly, holding it, then releasing. He repeated it. Harry, understanding what he was supposed to do, mimicked. After four times, his anxiety slowed.

"Close your eyes. Imagine feeling the heat of the Earth's core warming the soles of your feet. It's comforting to you like a fireplace on a cold night. Feel that warmness float now to your calves, to your knees, and as it does so, it softens the muscles. The warmth drifts to your hips, the stomach, easing any tension. As it rises your chest begins to breathe much easier, a needed relief, and settles to the top of your head. It stays there for a moment, giving the last bit of comfort it has. As it slowly dissipates, find yourself at peace, calm, and then little by little, open your eyes."

Harry had felt himself lost in the man's words, as always, and his eyes awoke back to the room. It was quiet for a time, and Harry's tears were now drying on his cheeks.

"Why did we do that?"

Birch smiled weakly. "You have proved your own point...your values, Harry. I needed you to see that. In reliving a desire that would otherwise taint your values to the point of no return, you can realize the relief that is felt now that the correct choice was made."

All Harry could do was nod. His body was drained, despite the calm given from the meditation. Imaging the truth hit him hard. He had to have made the right choice. Mrs. Weasley was still there in his life, if he wanted her to be, and his heart ached for her.

Mr. Birch watched him carefully, seemingly satisfied that Harry was stable. "We will end early. Our next meeting will not be so taxing, I promise you."

Harry nodded. "I'm not sure if I liked this one."

Birch smiled. "This is a taste of EMDR, which, as I had said, will come when you are ready."

Harry noticed that the wind had picked up as he was led back to his next class by Nate, and it felt nice on his skin.

"You all right, Harry?" Nate asked firmly.

He nodded. "Yes, just tired. Rough one today."

They met at the computer lab and Nate fist bumped his shoulder gently. "Let us know if you need a break. No shame in that at all."

Harry realized, somewhat peacefully, that there really wasn't any shame...that it would be okay. "Thanks."

Mr. Buchanan mumbled on about various software and keyboarding skills but his mind floated elsewhere. He, for the time being, felt less of a monster than he ever had.


	24. Step Forward, Step Back

**Here is another one for you!**

His friend's visit came sooner than he thought. Over the weekend the center had a Field Day event on the lawn and track. Harry was 2nd in relay, 3rd in hurdles, but managed a 1st place in the obstacle course. Harry thought he would be reminded of the Triwizard Tournament when he first learned about the event. The shaking sensation in his hands had at last eased once the residents joked, laughed, and shouted. He interpreted it more as organized chaos...a bunch of loony adults acting as if they were children. It caused Harry to give the world a ridiculous grin. Thankfully it had become a very delightful weekend, as he pinned the ribbons up in his room. Even better, tomorrow he would also be awarded his yellow status.

"I fucking pulled something, I swear it!" Danny moaned, getting into bed that night. Harry could see him favor his right thigh and screw his face in pain.

He laughed. "Well, stop messing around in phys ed and you might not be so out of shape!"

"Shut your damn pie hole, Potter. Some people aren't made for this shit."

Harry smiled and turned away from him, adjusting the ribbons so that they were perfectly straight. He didn't know why he was so proud of them. The picture of Hedwig added as well made his side of the room more cozy.

Danny seemed to have settled his anger, and Harry had to turn a wary eye after feeling as if he were being watched. True enough, Danny had a rather peculiar expression on his face. "What?" Harry laughed.

"I...I don't know. I suppose I just really want to know about that scar you have. The one Wyatt made fun of."

Harry paused a moment, completely off guard by the question.

"I mean, you don't have to tell me, I was just wondering, you know? By the way you acted I'm sure it's not from surgery."

Setting his glasses on the dresser, Harry sighed and sat himself gently on the bed. The scar appeared darker in the weak light of the lamps, almost as if he had simply ran a black marker down his wrist.

"I feel like I can tell you." Harry said quietly, fingering the skin.

"Is it from those awful relatives you talk about?"

He shook his head. "No. You know about my parents being killed, right? The same murderer was still trying to get at me to finish wiping out the family. Well, he managed to find me multiple times. This one night, however, he almost killed me. The scar is from a knife."

Danny's eyes were wide. "Your shitting me!"

"Nope. Wish I were."

"You mean, he's still out there?" Danny sat up from bed, unable to believe it.

"He killed another boy that was with me." Harry said softly. "I managed to get away like a stupid coward. I got him in the end, though. All I have to worry about now are those who supported him."

Harry was surprised to see that Danny's body had hardened. The shadows from the lamp's light amplified a monstrous face that almost frightened him.

"What the hell are you saying?" the man demanded.

Harry appeared confused. Was he angry at him about killing someone? "What are you talking about?"

Danny gave him an incredulous look. "Are you fucking serious, mate? Some asshole kills your parents and attacks you...kills a kid...and you're telling yourself that you're weak for running?"

Harry felt instant tears fill his eyes. "It should not have been that boy who died. He wanted me!"

"IT DOESN'T MATTER!" yelled Danny angrily. "What were you supposed to do, stand there and bleed to death? It's not your fault that some whackjob was out to kill that day!"

Harry could feel him beginning to escalate immediately. He shut his eyes and leaned over the bed, deeply trying to detach for a moment to collect himself. Danny could see what he was doing and why, and managed to keep himself silent. Both jumped when the door to the room opened.

Luke, one of the night staff watched both of them carefully before he spoke. "What is the problem in here, boys? I can hear you yelling from the kitchen, Danny."

"It's nothing, sir." Harry replied quietly. "It's nothing to worry about."

Luke shifted his eyes to Danny, who had given up and laid back down on his pillow. "Both of you rest and do your best tomorrow, yes?"

Harry nodded, and when the man shut the door, he found himself trapped in a room of awkward silence. Thankful that Danny didn't say another word, he gathered the blankets around him and faced the wall. Oddly enough, he felt a weight come off from his shoulders.

The argument Danny had with Harry did nothing to ruin their friendship. It was a great relief to find that Danny was his old self, annoying staff and being ridiculous. It was Tuesday morning, the day of the visit, and Harry could barely eat breakfast. Usually he felt a bit of nausea the next day after taking his medications, but today was most definitely two reasons. He had told Danny and Sara about seeing his old friends just before his math class.

"Oh, that's so great!" Sara exclaimed. Harry did feel a bit sad talking about getting visitations when she had no one.

"Oh, I know who you're talking about. Your old girlfriend is coming too, right?"

Harry gave him a stern 'shut your mouth' expression and allowed the man to laugh. Sara's face faded, but she recovered. Harry still hadn't told Danny, or even Mr. Birch about her attempting to have a relationship. He did not want her to get in any trouble, seeing as how that caused much of her pain.

Over the noise in the cafeteria, he managed to hear his name called from the back exit where Aaron stood waving him down.

Harry bolted up. "Sorry, gotta go!"

"See you, Harry!"

He shoved through Maggie and Natalie to get to the door, and Aaron gave him a huge smile. "All right, ready for round two?"

Harry laughed. "Hey, I am actually prepared this time."

"Well I certainly hope so!"

Aaron led him down the familiar hall, and surprisingly, Harry found himself rather excited.

The door was opened and at once he saw Hermione's smiling face, then a sudden mash of red. It was Ginny.

"Harry, it's good to see you!" she said.

He had been practicing the breathing and self talk as his therapist had recommended that morning, and so far it seemed to have worked. In response, he grabbed her into a fierce hug. His friends appeared surprised.

"Who's this new Harry?" Ron teased.

Harry smiled and gave them each an embrace before quickly raiding the cabinet.

"Uh, what are you doing?" asked Ron.

Harry pulled out a wooden box, and he grinned at the look on his friend's face.

Ron was in awe. "Muggle chess!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed. "Your so easily amused."

Harry learned that finding an activity helped him fill in the gaps and awkward silences. It offered him a chance to process and actually think before he regretted anything he said. Ron helped him set it up.

"You seem in a much better mood, Harry." said Hermione. He was happy to see her eyes gleam again.

"And you're not a red!" Ginny played with his newly awarded wristband.

Harry let his friend go first with the game. "Yeah, had a rocky couple of weeks. Now, though, I have something to actually work for."

"Like, leaving?" Hermione asked.

"Nope. Kingsley came here last week and actually listened to me for once. He said that he will let me help if it would get me better here. I just have to be able to earn green long enough to be able to get off campus."

Ginny had come closer and hugged his arm lovingly. "I know you can do it." Harry found himself fighting the urge to smother her and hold her as long as he could.

"Knight to—damn, already forgot. Doing what though?" Ron asked, getting used to the fact that talking to a piece of wood wasn't going to work.

"I will go to Gringotts and get money out. Then it can go to those who lost someone. He's going to help me write up the plan before we head out to Diagon Alley."

Hermione smiled widely. "Aw, that's great, Harry. I know that had really bothered you."

Harry told his friends all about the Field Day, and who got into a fight the past week. "And I am beginning to play the guitar. We practice with the teacher Tuesdays and Fridays, but I can barely hold it right."

Ginny sighed. "Ohhh I always wanted to play an instrument. By the time Uncle Barny's tin whistle came down Fred and George, they managed to get one of their sticky concoctions wedged and dried inside of it. Could never get it out."

"Maybe I can get you lessons." Harry said suddenly.

For a moment his friends just looked at him, and Ginny gave him a soft kiss on the forehead. "Harry, you really are coming around, aren't you?"

He couldn't help but grin. "I guess so."

For the next hour Harry had the most fun he ever had at Dartford. It gave him a glimpse into the familiar, causing him heavy homesickness. He didn't want them to go, and he knew when he saw Aaron's head peek into the room, that he had to go back to his schedule.

"We'll come back another time." Hermione promised. She pulled him into a hug and Ron did the same. "Next time we'll bring Mum."

Ginny had lost her smile, but she fell into a hug anyway. Harry wanted to get rid of something that had caused him so much regret, and he didn't want to wait any longer to do it.

"Aaron!" he said suddenly. "Wait, I need to talk to Ginny."

The man paused a moment, having a debate inside his head, then nodded. "Just a few minutes."

Harry pushed the door shut so that it was only he and Ginny in the room, and found himself sitting on the edge of the couch staring at the floor.

"What's wrong, Harry?" she asked quietly in concern.

Hundreds of words floated around in his mind, but he couldn't find a way to speak. Feeling the anxiety come back, he grounded himself the best he could after a long pause.

"Harry?" Her voice was sad.

He did not like to hear her that way. "I still love you, Gin." he mumbled. If she was crying, he did not see it. His eyes remained fixated on the rug.

Ginny's hands wrapped around his cheeks, gently and lovingly. "I know, Harry. I always knew."

The familiar tightening in this throat constricted his voice, but he had to speak to her. "I was an idiot. I still am. I never wanted to push you away."

She held his head against her chest and buried her face in his messy hair. "I never gave up on you."

Harry felt tears leak from his eyes. He hated himself for having to go on. "I did something stupid. I was completely drunk, on drugs, and wasn't myself. I just found myself throwing everything away. I wanted to save myself for you, and I screwed that up."

Ginny's hands loosened around his face, and Harry leaned back away from her, understanding that she was attempting to process what he had told her.

"You had sex with a girl?"

Harry's face was stained with tears. "It was stupid! I didn't even know her! All that I had left to hope for was gone and I hated myself for it." he held his face in his shaking hands. "I'm so sorry."

She hadn't said a word. Harry could feel his heart pounding. He almost wanted her to smack him.

Firm, yet gentle hands pulled his down from his eyes. He managed to meet her soft face, lit up with tears and an understanding smile. "Harry, you were lost. I will love you because I know you would have never done this if we were actually dating. All I ever wanted was for you to come home."

She wiped away his tears and Harry felt relief. "You're not angry?"

Ginny appeared guilty herself. "Well, remember when we were off and on and I had dated Dean?" Harry nodded and she sighed. "I lost myself with him and I had wanted it to be you."

Harry was shocked. "Seriously?"

Her face turned very red. "It's awful to tell you that, Harry."

All of a sudden, one of those walls that Birch talked about fell down. Grasping Ginny's waist, Harry found himself laughing.

Ginny was confused. "What? What are doing?"

Harry had to laugh silently to contain himself. "All this time we have both been hiding the same secret and killing ourselves over it."

She giggled herself and allowed him embrace her. "Oh my gosh, Harry!"

In an instant, he knew that this was the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with. Harry stood up on his feet and met his lips with hers. Ginny pulled him into her, and he was left in a state of bliss. He missed the smell of her hair, her gentle lips, all of it. All he could do was madly love her and relish the few minutes they had left. She traveled his neck, traced his cheek with her face, and Harry loved every second of it.

Her breath was heavy. "I need you home, Harry."

"I need you."

They managed to pry each other off, and he glanced disappointingly at the door. "I don't want you to leave."

Ginny took his hand. "I'll be back for you."

He knew she would be.

/

That night was the worse he had in months.

 _Harry awoke to complete darkness, devoured in pain. He attempted to feel his head where it hurt the most, but something stopped him. Waving his arm, he began to realize he was never going to be able to move. The chains tore against his sweaty skin and all Harry could think about what the fact that he was going to die here. A horrible, garbled scream echoed from the black hole he lay in, and he threw himself into the fetal position the best he could. 'Not me, not me!' he pleaded in almost a silent whisper. He suddenly heard another scream to his right, one behind, and Harry became so terrified the chains caused his wrists to bleed, trickling down his arm. Then it was his turn—they seized him at last, and he didn't want to die! Arms grabbed, they were tightening on his throat in an attempt to end him. It couldn't end this way! Harry heard it...that voice...he saw the red eyes...Voldemort stood above his body, face barely lit. Bellatrix laughter echoed within the blackness._

"MATE, STOP IT!"

Harry did not seem to hear. Fear had paralyzed him—no...no, he couldn't be back! With flailing arms threw Danny off- what was he doing just standing there?

"YOU HAVE TO LEAVE!" Harry shouted, frightened Voldemort was going to murder him in front of his eyes.

Danny gave him a confused expression. "What are you talking about, Harry?"

The door suddenly burst open. Harry hastily shoved his friend back and stood in front, waiting to meet Voldemort head on. Instead, Luke appeared, appearing very alarmed.

"What's going on?"

Danny took Harry's shoulder and tried to calm him down. "I dunno, he was dreaming and now he's freaking out!"

Harry's terror only intensified, panicked facing his night staff. "That's not Luke! They are trying to find a way in to kill me, and I won't let them kill you like everyone else!"

The man at the door seemed to understand exactly what was going on. His voice softened and remained stern. "Harry, look at me. I am Luke. No one is here to get you. That's all over."

"No! He was here! I always know when he's here!"

"No one will will get you when I am here. Danny will protect you too."

The man nodded. "Yeah, mate."

Harry tore at his hair. "Don't! People who protect me just die. I need to leave to make sure you live."

Luke made a gesture at Danny to stand near the back of the room, who obeyed..understanding what the man had in mind.

Harry's anxiety quickly turned to anger as another impersonator as a second staff appeared behind the first. He had to get them to leave his friend alone!

"Take me, I don't care. Let him leave."

The man behind whispered and Luke nodded. "All right, we will let him go."

Danny gave the men an incredulous look. "What the hell?" Luke gestured and he was forced to play along, leaving the room more confused than ever.

"Look, Harry, we let him go. Everything is all right now."

Harry, shocked, stood in the middle of the room. Since when did Death Eaters just let someone go? Luke left the door and stepped into the room with his hands up. "No one is here to hurt you. You know that I am who I say I am."

He was afraid again...he had a nightmare, he knew that...but it had to be a vision. It was more intense, leading dread to sink into his stomach. "If, you're Luke, tell me who my therapist is."

The man still had his hands up. "Mr. Birch."

Relief caused him to shudder and set his body against the back wall. Luke went over to him as he sank to the floor. "They're out there! I know they are." Tears were burning in his eyes.

The man's eyes softened in pity. Luke sat on the floor in front of him and comforted him. "Harry, you're completely safe. I promise you, you're safe."

"No, I need to be sure. I have to keep myself away from everyone in case they come."

The man was silent a moment. "Where would you go to do that?"

"By myself."

Luke was able to think quickly. "Let's take you to Blue. You can stay there until morning just in case. We will all be safe out here and you will be away from us."

Harry wasn't sure what was real anymore, but he could not formulate any other idea than what was offered. "Yeah...I'll go there."

After treading carefully through the dark courtyard, Harry rushed to sit in the corner of the small room and urged the man to leave.

"We will be safe, and so will you. I'll get you in the morning, Harry."

Harry really hoped so. He was already feeling paranoid enough. The door was shut, and the lights went out except for the glowing blue from a nightlight. Harry could feel himself calming down...and as much as he willed to stay awake, the excitement left him drained. Several feet away, Luke sat in the darkness to keep an eye on him.

The dreams had ended their threatening grasp on him, and when he awoke, Harry almost felt back to normal. He found himself curled into the pile of beanbags and winced as pain shot up through his neck. Memories of last night left him feeling confused, and also a bit embarrassed. Obviously nothing had happened, and the memory of Voldemort dropping to the ground in death reminded Harry that he was in fact, dead as a doornail. Voices were muffled from behind the door, and Harry crawled to the window to peer at who was there. Almost out of view, he could see Luke, Nate and Mr. Birch standing together...surely talking about his episode. It had to have been 7:00 for shift change. He knocked at the plexiglass. The men turned and Nate pulled out his keys, advancing toward the room.

"Hey, Harry. How are you doing?"

He shrugged. "Better, I suppose."

"Luke told me what happened last night. Do you remember?"

Harry nodded miserably.

"Well, Mr. Birch wants to talk to you about it. Is that all right?"

He moved back towards the bean bags and sighed. "Yeah, sure."

His therapist came to the door, meeting his eyes kindly. Harry couldn't help but look away. The man placed himself on the floor across from him.

"I heard your visit went well yesterday."

Harry was thrown off. "Uh, yes, it did."

"Did it bring back any upsetting memories for you, or dreams?"

Why was this man such a genius? "I had a nightmare. Worse than the ones I normally get." He went into detail to the man about the darkness, the pain, and what he had seen. "It was just like the visions I had before...when I would find myself in his body. I thought that it had to have been what he planned for me."

"I am not surprised by what happened last night, Harry." Birch stated calmly. "With those two triggers, your mind had to compensate."

"I couldn't tell what was real." Harry whispered.

Birch smiled. "We have work to do in order to help these fears decrease. Unfortunately, as we dig deeper, you may feel this way again. You will have the tools to stop it."

Harry felt determined. "I want to start that EM whatever therapy you talked about. I want it to be better now."

This therapist shook his head. "Not now."

He was disappointed. They planned to have their original session the following week, after Harry stated that he would be fine until then. The man led him back to the dorm so he could get ready for the day. He was nervous about confronting Danny about the whole incident.

He walked in and paused as all the men stopped and turned in his direction. Harry's heart dropped in realization that it wasn't just Danny that he had to worry about.

"Hey, mate," said John. "You good?"

"Er, yeah. Sorry about last night." He came to understand that he might have awaken the whole dorm during his panic attack.

Danny appeared from the bathroom and gave him a smile. "No worries, Mate. Hurry and get ready. I want to be first in line for cinnamon pancakes."

Harry wanted to roll his eyes, but he felt instantly better. They were moving on, and he himself wanted to distract his mind with food.

As the day went on, Harry was frustrated that he could not shake off the nightmare. In class, he shocked even himself when he found himself drawing Bellatrix in the margins of his notes. He was paying particular detail on her hair, remembering how it tickled his cheek when she mocked him. He failed his history test and was told that he had to go to the library during his free period after lunch to redo it. After shoving his grilled cheese into his mouth, he scowled the entire time going up the stairs.

Just before the door, Harry saw two men from the other dorm come out, rubbing their noses, appearing as if they had ran out of the library.

"He always has the best shit." One muttered.

Harry let them go first, and a funny, familiar feeling got his attention. He had seen this behavior before. He himself had done it multiple times. At that moment, Harry had a new mission. Mrs. Owens smiled at him from her desk, and he noticed no other resident in the library...until he saw Ethan hiding behind a pile of books and his bag. His heart sank...of course...

Ethan was out of sight of the woman at the desk for a reason. Harry walked straight towards him, and as he got closer the man sneered.

"What do you want?"

Harry held his ground. "What you have."

Ethan said nothing, studying him intently.

"I know you have coke, that's why I'm here."

"You don't seem the type to come to me for that. Are you trying to get me in trouble?"

"If I'm asking for it, why would I want it taken away?"

Ethan glared, but pulled out a book on politics and opened a page. Inside was a flattened bag of cocaine, which he dumped and made into a line. "You take it here. I don't need you to be caught with it." He handed Harry a rolled note.

Harry didn't argue. He bent down and snorted the powder...allowing himself to succumb almost immediately its effects. Without warning, Ethan dealt him a blow in his stomach. Harry almost fell to the ground.

"What the fuck was that for?"

"You don't have anything I want to pay for that. That was so much more satisfying."

Harry glared at him and straightened himself. He turned to leave and Ethan spoke from behind him. "I'm here every Tuesday and Friday after lunch. My supplies get mailed in, and I have a clientele."

Harry kept that in mind. He left the library, no longer caring about his test, and found himself grinning at the sudden onset of euphoria.


	25. Fighting Foes and Winning Friends

**I will be rushing this a bit, mainly because I believe the story can be winding down. Don't worry, Harry doesn't become a junkie, so get that out of your head lol. Thanks again for reading.**

Harry admitted, he was very ashamed of taking back the habit that had a part in why he was at Dartford to begin with. Over the next week and a half, he avoided Ethan once because it was a good day, and then came back the next time the man was in the library when it wasn't. During school, Ethan's bullying in fact had decreased, and Harry wasn't complaining. If only Ethan could have kept his mouth shut.

Harry had finished with his clothes in the dryer. He took them to his room and went to fold them, which he actually found to be a rather meditating activity. Just as he was on his third pair of jeans, he was startled as Danny came into the room, shutting the door quickly.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Danny asked, almost whispering.

Harry glared, increasingly baffled. "What do you mean?"

Danny came closer and forced him to abandon the clothes. "Ethan, mate! He said you come to him for coke. Are you serious?"

Harry wished he could be furious, but it had been a long day. He really hoped Danny would let it slide so he could continue to mindlessly sort his belongings away. "So, what if I do?"

"You're being stupid! Anything from him will drag you down. Don't you want to get out of here in four months?"

He gave the man a loathsome stare. "Like you don't go to him yourself."

For the first time, Danny's face fell. Harry could see he was right. "That doesn't matter." the man said. "I go down all the time, you don't."

"I really need you to stop telling me to do things when you aren't even following through," Harry replied coldly. "How is that encouraging? How long have _you_ been here?"

Danny, to his surprise, said nothing. After a short pause, he finally responded. "I'm already a lost cause, Harry. Even if I manage to complete my program here, I know I will relapse, and it's shit all over again. You aren't there, and you need to stop seeing him."

In the silence, they could hear the men outside the door laughing at something on TV, making comments, but all Harry could do was glance hesitantly towards his friend.

"I don't go every time. It's not like I need it everyday."

"Doesn't matter. If you're caught I can guarantee they will tell the judge. What's another few months, anyway?"

"Fine," he whispered hastily. Harry pushed past him and began finishing his chore without another word. Danny fell into his bed and began playing games on his phone. Neither said another word until morning.

Even if Harry did want to avoid Ethan, it was nearly impossible. After another week of refraining to see the man in the library, it began a new series of unexpected visits. During Phys Ed, Harry was, as usual, racing Danny through the hurdles and winning. He always gave him a smirk as the man wheezed to the finish line.

"I really...hate you...Potter!" he gasped.

"Stop eating too much pie at dinner then!"

"You need to stop running like a fucking gazelle."

Harry's laugh faltered as he heard Ethan's voice from behind his ear. "Speaking of running, Potter, I haven't seen you bolt you arse into the library in quite some time."

Harry spun to face him, already preparing for a fight. Danny managed his words more quickly. "No one was talking to you, you dolt. In case you haven't noticed, it's Phys Ed, not a study group."

Ethan feigned a laugh. "Seriously. As much as I love to have money, I really need a good punch to your stomach to loosen my nerves. Birch says I need to vent out my frustration, after all."

Harry didn't know where the courage came from, but he was becoming very irritated with the man's attempts to threaten him. "Then why don't you do us all a favor and beat your head into a cement block?"

He could feel Danny's eyebrows raise from behind. Almost in an instant, Harry mentally kicked himself at the stupidity he just demonstrated, but his face remained calm.

Shockingly, Ethan's face simply curled into a smile. "I'll see you again. Soon you will be crawling back like every other deadbeat in this place." He walked away and pretended to tip his hat and sang, "I'll be waiting!"

Danny stood next to him and chuckled hesitantly. "How did you manage to squeeze out of that one?"

"No idea." Harry just realized he could breathe again.

"Does he seriously sack you in the stomach every time?"

"Yeah," he said gloomily. "Says he doesn't want my money."

"And you take that?"

Harry could feel the anger in the man's voice, and it caused him to feel awfully ashamed. "I'd rather not bring that up again. Let's race again after the next group."

He could feel Danny's eyes behind his back, and he didn't want to know what his friend was thinking.

Harry finished the afternoon off with Dr. Blankenship. It was only 4:00 but he wanted to faceplant himself onto his pillows and call it a night. School had been difficult that morning, and with group and Phys Ed back to back, he was officially done with the day. As always, he did his best to quickly answer her questions.

"Harry?" she said, stepping out into the hall. "Come in, won't you?"

He followed her and sat next to Birch, who always made notes of any medication changes.

"So, tell me, Harry, any nightmares?"

He nodded. "A really bad one some time ago. I felt like someone was going to kill me and I was going insane."

Birch put it into better terms. "He had some outside stressors that brought out delusion from past trauma. He is well aware now that it was an acute incident."

Dr. Blankenship appeared mildly concerned. "Hmn...any other dreams besides this one?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, now and then, but I don't wake up from them. I keep seeing myself in a graveyard, or always running from something."

"Any thoughts of self harm for suicidal ideation?"

"No."

"On a scale of 1-10 how has your past week been mood wise?"

"Er..a 7 I guess."

"Any flashbacks during the day?"

"I don't think so...I suddenly remember things and I sort of tense up, but I work through it."

"He's made a lot of progress," Mr. Birch said proudly, giving him a small wink. "He has even rekindled some past relationships that were very difficult to manage in the beginning."

"Oh, very nice! Lovely, Potter. I do, however, want to raise your Prazosin. We will keep those nightmares at bay once and for all."

Harry managed a small smile. He stifled a yawn as she got her paperwork in order and sent the updated list to the nurses office downstairs. When she stood at her desk, he knew the med check was over and followed suit.

"Thank you, sir, you are good to leave and go eat. Your medication should be ready by the time you finish."

Mr. Birch led him out, and all Harry really wanted was a quick Dreamless Sleep potion and a bed. Screw the pill, he thought. He took his cocktail of meds without complaint, noting the much larger sized one, and patiently waited. Danny performed, yet again, his dramatic 'ahhh' while the nurse made sure he wasn't cheeking.

Speaking of, Danny wasn't sent straight to the dorm after everyone else filed in. Harry wondered if he had actually tried to hide his meds and was getting in trouble for it. Nate left for the day, and when Harry laid in bed for what felt like hours, his friend finally entered the room.

"See you in the morning, Dan." Harry heard Luke call from the other end of the dorm.

"See ya."

Harry rolled over and stared at him. "What took you so long?"

He wouldn't look at him. "You know, Birch stuff. He's getting really annoying lately. Goodnight."

Harry didn't say anything more. "Night." He watched the shadows of the outside bushes sway back and forth. The moon was full, and he thought of Lupin. Harry closed his eyes and detached himself for a moment. Little by little, grieving was becoming more and more painless. He smiled, imagining little Teddy growing up and telling all about how brave his mother and father were. In truth, the bravest. One day, they would all be together again. But for now...

Harry awoke to an empty room, which was incredibly odd. He heard the other residents talking and getting ready for the day, and Harry almost thought he was running late. Dressing quickly, he ran to the bathroom and tried to comb his hair.

Brian laughed from behind the door. "What's wrong, Potter, got the shits?"

Laughter rang out from behind the door and he pretended to be insulted as he opened it. "Can't a guy comb his hair in peace?"

Luke was filling out the notes from the night and gave him a smirk. "You still have twenty minutes, chill out."

Embarrassed, he glanced around for his roommate. "Where's Danny? I usually don't see him up this early."

Luke's face said 'dont worry about it'. "He's talking with staff at the Lodge. You'll see him at breakfast."

Harry was concerned. Did someone in his family die? Questions were burning inside but Luke waved him away. "Forget it, it's nothing to worry about. Now get out of the loo unless you're going to piss."

Brian laughed again.

Harry couldn't help but be concerned when they made their way to breakfast, and even more so when he never showed.

"You think he's being kicked out?" Sara asked.

Harry shrugged. "Dunno. Hope not. I don't think he's done anything, and I know for a fact he didn't meet any goals."

"Wonder if there was court and they decided to remove him."

He didn't say anything. If that were the case, he really hoped he could say goodbye before he left.

"Do you have to do that research paper I heard about?" Sara asked, holding her spoon loosely in her mouth. Harry couldn't tell if she was doing something erotic or not, so he shifted his eyes away from her. Ever since he spoke about getting back with Ginny Sara began acting strange around him.

"Yeah, everyone in English has to. It's a group paper though. Should be easy."

"You have geometry first though at least. I'd rather do that than put together an outline for a research paper."

Harry silently disagreed, but he didn't say anything. Paraphrasing facts into paragraphs was nothing. He did that in History of Magic all the time when he wasn't cheating off Hermione.

The bell rang, and Harry was left to shuffle towards the classroom. Hopefully he could disregard Ethan for the thirty minutes he had in the lecture before heading to Birch's office.

But Ethan wasn't there.

Confused, Harry settled in more focused than ever. He managed to even answer a few of the questions correctly. Was him always being on edge the reason why he always failed miserably? He was almost disgraced that the man had such a hold on him.

Even Ms. Collins noticed. "You did very well completing your assignment, Harry. You really made an attempt today."

Harry managed a smile, and when Nate came to retrieve him, he saw her mark a 1 on her sheet for participation. He felt proud of himself, not being at a 4 any longer. He would definitely tell Mr. Birch about it.

"Did you hear that there is going to be an enormous Christmas party this year?" Nate asked as they ascended the stairs.

Harry himself shivered as he adjusted from being outside. "Really? Is Father Christmas going to be there?"

Nate rolled his eyes. "Better than that. Food trucks, hot chocolate, games in the snow...even gifts."

Harry laughed. "Whose paying for that?"

"We do fundraise, you know? What would you want as a gift?"

"No idea. I usually get candy and a jumper from my friend's Mum."

Nate let him inside the hallway and smiled. "Okay then, but let's think of something a little more ambitious than that, yeah?"

Harry was going to say something sarcastic when a frightening shout of expletives and banging echoed from the small conference room near the door. Nate ran to it, but before he could reach for the handle, it was forcefully pushed open. Nate was shoved to the floor.

Harry was instantly terrified. There in front of him was Ethan, holding something blunt in his hands. Birch and Aaron were both against the wall inside the room.

"IT WAS YOU WASN'T IT?"

Harry was clueless. Ethan was almost feral and his face was crimson. He could almost see the blood pulsing through the man's arteries. Harry longed to say something...anything at all...but his brain couldn't focus as Ethan held the object over his head with both hands. In an instant, Harry felt a piercing pain and then a dull ache before he hit the ground. There was a foggy commotion, but all Harry was conscience of was something very hot pooling down his face. Almost immediately he let himself drift off into a comforting darkness.

/

Someone was touching his face...and it hurt. Harry's thoughts were hazy and confused, and he attempted to move away from whoever was bothering him.

"Sit tight, lovely," a woman's voice cooed. "Almost done."

Harry opened his eyes, squinting at the sudden light, and he moaned again.

"Sorry about that, I'm sure you'd want the dark with that concussion you have, dear."

He heard the light switch and it was definitely more dim when he managed to look around. "What happened?" he asked softly.

The woman was about Mrs. Weasley's age with blonde curly hair and pink scrubs. He could see he was at a Muggle hospital with the amount of medical equipment around him.

"Got a good ol' wack to the head that brought you here," she joked. "Doctor says you have yourself a minor concussion and an inch long hairline fracture on your noggin. That will just heal with time. I just finished up with your bandages over the stitches." She walked out the doorway and called someone in. Harry had never seen her before.

"This is Sam. She's your sitter until someone from Dartford can get you for release. That should be later today and they can sign you out."

"Why do I need that?" he mumbled.

Sam reassured him. "Just a precaution, Harry. The hospital wants to make sure someone keeps an open eye on you since you come from a treatment center. I'm sure you're nothing to worry about, right?"

He already felt himself becoming drowsy again. The nurse noticed. "Rest a bit, love. You will be out of here soon."

He fitfully slept the rest of the afternoon. Sam sat next to him watching television, and attempted to make small talk about what she saw.

"Can you believe the Queen wore that gaudy outfit? Looks like a pink potato sack." She laughed.

Harry glanced at the screen and tried to smile. Reminded him more of an old Umbridge. When lunch came he ate slowly, and when Sam left the room the nurse came back and took her place until she returned.

"When can I leave?" he asked her, trying to be polite as possible.

"Doctor is finishing up his reports as we speak. The social worker will be calling Dartford as soon as that's finished. I'd say in a couple hours if they can get you quick."

Harry almost laughed at himself for actually wishing to return there, but he needed to ask Birch and Aaron what exactly happened, and why the hell Ethan felt it necessary to almost kill him. Did he do something and not realize it? He was not sure if it was the pain medicine they gave him, or the decrease of adrenaline, but Harry could not keep his eyes open the rest of the afternoon. He only awoke at the sound of garbled voices at the door. Turning over, he saw Aaron and the nurse speaking about his medical needs.

Aaron noticed him. "Hey, Harry! I'm glad to see you're all right." The man reached around the corner and gave him a bag. "Go change into your clothes. Yours has blood all over them." He made an awkward laugh.

Harry almost didn't notice. He shifted and saw that indeed on the front of his navy blue V neck, were dried blotches of dried blood. How did he not notice that?

The nurse came in and shut the door to help him change. He wanted to tell her he could handle it, but the dizziness told him otherwise.

"Nice and slow, love. There you go!" She bagged his dirty shirt. "Do you want me to throw this out or do you want to wash it when you get home?"

Harry remembered this was the same shirt he had worn to the party with Jackson and David. It was definitely bad luck. "You can just throw it out."

Aaron signed his release documents since Harry wasn't allowed to living at Dartford, and they headed off back to campus.

"So, can you tell me why Ethan tried to kill me?"

Aaron faked a chuckle. "I wouldn't worry about him any longer. We can discuss everything when we get back. Birch and I need to have a discussion with you anyway."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "About what? I'm not the one who sent someone to the emergency room."

"We're not taking sides. We need to give you some answers, yes?"

Harry refused to say anything else. His head was aching and the stitches were snagging on the bandages making him wince. The nurse told him that he would have to change them at least once a day, and the stitches would dissolve. He really hoped it wouldn't leave another blasted scar on his forehead. What shape would it be this time?

After pulling off the motorway, they made it safely to Dartford. Aaron didn't bother taking him to the dorm, but straight to the Lodge. He tried to catch up to the man ahead all the while his head seemed to throb each step he took.

"Can we take the lift?" he asked painfully.

Aaron agreed. "Sure. I don't feel like exerting myself today anyway."

The doors opened, and Harry found himself standing exactly where he was just the day before. There was an obvious mark in the floor where it was scrubbed.

"See, maintenance did a great job, don't you think?"

Harry didn't know why, but he found it amusing. "Yeah, sorry about that."

In the conference room, he could see Mr. Birch's pant leg and dress shoes. Aaron led him in and the man looked away from his notebook.

"Hello there, Harry, it's good to see you."

Harry nodded and sat across from him. Aaron placed himself on his right, and was suddenly very uncomfortable.

"So, Harry..." Aaron began hesitantly. "I want to let you know, first and foremost, that Ethan has been removed from Dartford altogether. You don't have to worry about confronting him here again."

"Where did he go?"

"He's in jail until he gets a court date. He had his last chance, and now has added aggravated assault on his charges."

Harry didn't say a word.

"This isn't your fault, Harry." Mr. Birch added softly. "He made his choices."

Harry was lost. "But he said I did something. I don't even know what that was."

Aaron responded. "That's because it wasn't you. Someone came forward with information that Ethan was dealing out illicit drugs to residents. When we confronted him he became angry, and as you came in to begin your session with Mr. Birch here, Ethan assumed it was you."

Harry suddenly understood. His stomach flip flopped and he avoided their eye contact. He could sense that they were looking at him for answers. Mr. Birch initiated the conversation.

"Harry, why would Ethan think that it was you who told us?"

He shrugged, still avoiding them. The silence that followed became overwhelming, and he had to detach himself in order to stop the pounding in his head.

Aaron shifted in his chair. A new side of him came out that threw Harry off. "Look, Harry, I will be as frank as I can. Apparently residents have been taking advantage of this opportunity, behind closed doors. We need to know, right now, if you are one of them. I am being serious right now."

They already knew the moment Ethan called him out. Harry sighed inwardly and continued to stare mindlessly into the table. "Yes. Only a couple times, though."

"What did you take?"

"Cocaine. That's all I ever do."

He refused to look at Mr. Birch to see if he was disappointed or not. "You're beginning the substance abuse group starting tomorrow." The man said.

Harry finally looked him in the eye. "It's not like I'm addicted or anything! I had to shake off that nightmare. I've only done it twice here!"

"Did you do it before you came?" Asked Aaron.

Harry nodded. "A lot. I lived with people who supplied it, but I never craved it like I was addicted!"

The two men said nothing. Harry glanced between the two, trying to get them to understand what he was saying.

"You never spoke about this in session, Harry. This is critical to understand why numbing our pain can be detrimental."

Harry sighed and fidgeted with the bandage on his head. It was beginning to itch. Aaron opened up his bag and Harry looked to see what he was reaching for.

He couldn't believe what he saw. "WHAT? You're kidding me!" Aaron held a pair of scissors and gestured for him to hold out his arm. "That's not fair! I already got sent to the hospital, that's punishment enough!"

Mr. Birch appeared saddened himself, but he encouraged him to listen. "You're only going to go down to a yellow. We discussed that sending you straight to red would not benefit you."

Realization hit Harry like a ton of bricks. "Kingsley! He's supposed to take me out on Tuesday!"

"I'm sorry, Harry."

"THIS ISN'T FAIR!"

"Hand me your arm, Harry." Aaron demanded.

He obeyed vehemently, and when a yellow wristband was placed on, he turned around and kicked the rolling chair into the wall. "This is bullshit!"

"Enough!" Harry was surprised to hear Mr. Birch's voice. He never heard the man yell before.

"Well, it is and you know it!"

"I said that is enough. Do not force us to change our mind about sending you to red. Kingsley can still come to see you on Tuesday, but you will not be leaving with him. In two weeks, we can try it again."

"Who told?"

Aaron and Birch appeared bewildered at first, then settled into a state of defiance. "It doesn't matter who came forward. Ethan isn't here anymore to ruin the progress of our residents."

Harry stared Aaron down, thinking very hard at who could have possibly ratted Ethan out. As soon as he pieced together the puzzle, he had his suspicions.

"Whatever then. Where do I go now?"

Aaron fished around in his bag once more and set three pieces of paper and a history book on the table. "Your schoolwork from this morning you missed. Once you're done you go to dinner with everyone else."

"Fine." he snapped.

The men left the room, and Harry was left to angrily fill out his homework. He had a very good idea who started the whole thing...and he was going to have a chat with them later that night.

/

He sat fuming at the table as he ate. Sara had babied him the second he sat down with his food. Danny beelined toward their spot and made a pained expression on his face.

"Ouch, mate. He got you good! Heard there was blood everywhere!"

Harry didn't say anything.

"How long have you been here?"

He gave him a cold glare. "A few hours. I was told that someone snitched on Ethan and he thought it was me."

Danny's face faltered.

"And then I found out that because he thought it was me, it was assumed that I was one of the druggies who bought from him."

Sara was eying them carefully. Danny's face became very serious. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen, Harry. I was trying to protect you."

Harry laughed. "Really? Tell me how that protected me! Where was I today?"

His friend grew frustrated, trying to defend himself. "He had to go, mate. He was bad news for everyone. I didn't want you to get caught and set you back."

"It happened anyway!"

"Both of you, stop!" Sara's face was blotching red again. "Harry, Danny would never do something to harm you, you know that! You happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. So quit arguing!"

She was right, but it didn't make it feel any better. In a sense, he felt he was being punished for getting his head bashed in.

"What did he hit you with anyway?" she asked.

"Dunno."

Danny responded quietly. "Heard it was a big hole puncher."

No one said anything for a moment.

Then Sara stifled a giggle. "I'm so sorry...I don't know why I'm laughing!"

Harry was insulted for a split second, but he too cracked a grin. "Sounds pretty lame, right?"

Danny grinned, but he didn't laugh. "Seriously, mate. I didn't want none of this to happen. It bothered me that he hit you as payment. Just didn't sit right."

Hesitating only a moment, he waved his friend off. "Well, you didn't get me killed, so..."

They all smiled, and Harry knew that he was with true friends.


	26. Signatures and Wands

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR WAITING. I GOT A NEW DESKTOP AND STRUGGLED TO GET SOMETHING TO WORK WITH MY FILES, THE DOCUMENTS, ETC, AND THE HOLIDAYS. PLUS I COULDNT EVEN USE MY COMPUTER FOR ABOUT A WEEK. SORRY THIS CHAPTER IS SHORT BUT IT'S STILL AWESOME HAHA. I STILL LOVE DANNY'S CHARACTER. HE CRACKS ME UP

Harry and Kingsley met on Tuesday as planned. After about an hour and a half of discussing the details of the fund for families, they had agreed on an amount. Kingsley suggested an offering method so that families can choose to accept or deny the donation. Harry improved greatly after Ethan had left, and Wyatt graduated from the program the week after. He now focused completely on his goals. After maintaining the green level for over two weeks, the appointment was made for Kingsley to return over the weekend. Mr. Birch had prepared him for the event, mainly due to the fact he was returning to a place where everyone knew who he was, and what that may look like.

Harry waited in his dorm excitedly, watching his dormmates play Speed. Any minute now he was going to be sent up to the lobby where Kingsley will be waiting. Danny huffed dramatically every time he glanced at Harry's happy face.

"You better get me something when you leave," he demanded. "Pack of cigarettes, food, whatever, you hear?"

Harry rolled his eyes and grinned. "Stop telling me what to do."

"Just asking for a souvenir."

Brian gave the man a smirk. "Just give up being awful at following directions and you could go out and buy all the cigarettes you want."

"Hey!" Danny exclaimed. "I have been a green for almost a week, thank you!"

"Yeah, and you've been here forever." Brian looked at Harry. "How long have you been here now?"

He thought a moment. "Almost four months, I guess. I was court ordered for six." Harry felt a burst of excitement after he realized it...he only had about two more months! His court date was near the end of his last month to determine if he required more care or to be released on probation. At this rate, he was heading in the right direction.

Danny threw his cards down after a pitiful loss to Brian. "Yeah, I've gotten to the point where I think I can focus on actually doing what I'm supposed to. My advocate said if I don't improve I'm likely to get six months in jail. Better stick to it and just be sent back home to complete the process all over again."

Harry's heart sank. He truly felt terrible for Danny not having any other options, after explaining that the temporary housing was full of drugs anyhow. Brian gathered the cards up and tried to encourage him.

"Tell you what, mate, I get out when Harry does...hopefully...I can open my place to you. Parents are getting me a flat and I will need help paying the rent."

"Mhm." Danny shrugged. Harry could see that he was thinking about it.

The weekend staff's radio went off, and Harry could hear his name from the speaker. He jumped up from his seat in anticipation.

"See you, mate," Danny called. "And don't forget my present!"

Harry could have skipped to the door he was so happy. Not only had Kingsley come, but the entire Weasley family and Hermione. Ginny ran to embrace him.

"I assumed you would care for some support during our trip to Gringotts." Kingsley winked.

Mrs. Weasley beamed with happiness as she tried to wipe her tears. "Oh, dear, you are looking lovely!" He allowed her to squeeze the life out of him. His heart filled for the woman who he always saw as his mother.

"How are we getting there?" He asked as they left the building, eager about seeing other places than the courtyard.

"Portkey." Kingsley answered, fumbling inside his Muggle jacket for something. He pulled out a decent sized rock that oddly appeared to be the one from the landscaping of Dartford. After setting it on the ground and setting the enchantment, the man counted to three. Harry reached forward as he and his friends warped instantly to London. He fell face first into the dirt of an alley. Ron apparently had done the same thing.

"Argh, my nose!"

Harry laughed, standing up and brushing the dirt off his jeans. Ron held his face, checking to see if blood was oozing out of his nose.

"Everyone good, yes?" Kingsley called. Every one else landed on their two feet. Ginny instantly moved towards Harry and grabbed his hand.

"Lead on, Minister," Mr. Weasley smiled. "After you."

They exited the alley and Harry saw the Leaky Cauldron almost immediately. He had prepared for the attention he was going to receive coming back into the Wizarding world, but he realized at once that it was going to take every coping skill to endure it. The moment they entered the establishment, the heads turned. Knowing eyes widened and Harry felt his body stiffen with anxiety. Ginny squeezed his hand.

"Good day, Tom" Kingsley chimed. "Great to see you!"

"The same to you, Minister." Tom managed to say, watching Harry intently.

Acting as if he saw no one, Harry followed the man towards to entrance to Diagon Alley. One down, a whole crowd left to go. His face must have been giving his emotions away, for Kingsley had paused before opening the wall. "We are all here to help, Harry. Have no worries."

He nodded, starting to feel a bit of heat through his body.

Diagon Alley was as amazing as it had been the first day he laid eyes upon the whimsical buildings and flurry of witches and wizards. Business was much more casual than the summers before Hogwarts, and the most he could see of people were near Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour and outside the Apothecary. Harry felt safe walking in the middle of the group, and he allowed the positive memories of buying his school supplies overrun the negative. He could see Gringotts at the end of the road, repaired after its dragon had burst through the walls. Kingsley had claimed that the goblins forgave the incident after the item stolen took part in the fall of Voldemort. Witches and wizards passed, nodding a hello to the Minister. Harry felt uncomfortable when their smile faded to an expression of shock as their eyes fell upon him.

"Is that Harry Potter?"

"Surely it is!"

"He's been out of sight for months!"

Harry was unsure if they were seeing him as the person who defeated the Dark Lord, or the cause of the war entirely. "As long as they don't threaten me, I'm fine." he managed to say to himself. Ginny was still at his side.

Kingsley opened the door of the bank, and Harry almost rushed in, trying to get away from the eyes behind him in Diagon Alley. He almost wished he was on the other side the minute his eyes locked onto the goblins. At once, they all silenced their quills across the parchment, and every eye was gleaming in their direction. Harry could see a scowl grow deeper in the goblin at the end of the hall. Apparently they were not as forgiving as Kingsley had made them out to be.

"Good day!" said Kingsley, ignoring the glares. He led the group briskly across the hall, and Harry saw the creature's eyebrows furrow further and further down each step they advanced.

"Ah, yes, how could I have forgotten you would be arriving? Perhaps I did not hear the crumbling of the roof above my head."

"Nonsense! Allegiances and relationships are being amended. I trust your dragon is safely secured once more?"

"Oh, yes, I fall into a fit of laughter imagining the poor Ministry sods attempting to wrangle it." The goblin did not appear to express any joy as he stated this. Kinglsey waved his hand, as if to move the conversation along. Harry watched as the man withdrew a parchment from his robes and place it in front of the goblin.

"Review the terms, as discussed in our last conversation, sir. All funds should be in order."

Carefully, the creature skimmed the contents and compared the numbers to a scrawl on a page elsewhere. "Indeed. Carry on then, Potter. Your restitution will be done as soon as your signature is made. Take the quill."

Mrs. Weasley huffed from behind him. "This is not about restitution! He did nothing wrong!" Arthur attempted to hush his wife.

"Call it what you wish. Sign the document."

Harry managed to breathe. He was not quite sure if he had been doing so the entire time he stood before the goblin. He stole a quick glance at Kingsley, who nodded in encouragement. Ginny's hand fell from his and he allowed his eyes to follow the words he attempted to read. An emotion he had not experienced in a long while came to him almost in an instant, and the weight of it nearly broke him down. Even as Harry took the quill in his hands and forced a signature, he was unsure of what was wrong. Or was it truly wrong at all? One of his formidable walls were falling down, and it was as if the pounding were audible. The pressure in his heart was heavy at first, yet in an instant the fear had dissipated. Harry could only compare it to finding a light at the end of a long tunnel, or reaching a point where the forest meets the water. He had finally achieved relief, closure, peace, whatever the word for it was. Harry set the quill back onto the desk without a tremor, and with a loud clunk of the seal, the promise was set.

"Well done, Harry." The Minister stated proudly.

The goblin waved them off. "If that is all, this concludes our discourse for today, and I trust that the Ministry will do their do diligence and offer this opportunity as soon as possible?"

"Yes, the matter will be published in the next Daily Prophet."

"Then good day, and goodbye."

Harry couldn't have left the bank any faster. In a rush they exited the doors and almost as one, they breathed a laugh and beamed.

"Did you see the look on that thing's face?" Ron exclaimed.

"That was so nerve wracking!" Hermione said, giggling to Ginny.

Kingsley turned to Harry and took in his demeanor. He was pleased to see a small smile on the boy's face. "What do you say, Harry, a trip to the ice cream shop, you think? A well earned treat is in order."

Mrs. Weasley jumped in excitement. "We're buying! I don't want to hear any 'buts'."

Mr. Weasley grew concerned and very confused. "We are?"

Molly gave him a willful expression and the man averted his eyes immediately.

Harry embraced her warmly. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I appreciate all of you for being here."

Ron squeezed his shoulder. "What else do I have to do anyway?"

"Ron!" his mother gasped.

Harry only smirked. "Snoring, I'm sure."

Ginny placed her hand behind his back as the group rounded the corner to the shop. Harry felt the anxiety of the shocked stares begin to fade slowly, and he wrapped Ginny by the shoulders so she would fall into him. For once he felt almost normal.

After ice cream and visiting George at his shop, his day pass was nearing its end. He finished as many of the candy George gave him before returning, which left his hair streaking all sorts of brilliant colors. Ginny told him he looked ravishing, and he was certainly glad that her family weren't listening. He began to sense silent conversations were happening through his friends' eyes most of the visit at Diagon Alley. He was not sure what it was all about, and no one was saying a word. It was not until their adventure left them at the end of the alley did he piece it all together. Ollivander's shop remained as it always had. The group held silent, and Harry was forced to look to the Minister for answers.

"You understand what we are asking, yes?" the man asked. Harry only nodded. "Naturally, the decision is yours, and the reasons are obvious to you. None of us will add any input."

Harry stood, sagging slightly as he faced the shop. Smooth, dark and detailed wands spun slowly on display in the windows. He remembered his own. The brother of a far more sinister wand. He admitted that he longed for the feeling of having one in his hands, yet he truly only saw it as a weapon. Mr. Birch would have a way to break this idea, and he realized this, but at this moment, the man was not there. The decision was his.

"I only see them as a way to harm and a way to protect myself," he mumbled. "I can't seem to get that out of my head."

Ginny attempted to speak but Kingsley held out his hand. This was his decision.

"I guess I can…" he paused. "I can talk to Mr. Birch to see how I can change that. Maybe then I can see myself using it again."

"Will you speak to Mr. Ollivander?"

After much hesitation, Harry managed a nod. He ignored the sighs of relief and entered the building, hearing the bell sing above the doorframe. Within the chaos of cobwebs and musty air, he could hear the man tinkering from behind a shelf. Harry had not seen the man since their imprisonment.

"Ollivander, we have come to purchase!" Kingsley called. The shuffling stopped. Harry could see him turning and wobble in their direction, and his face flushed when realization spread across the old man's face.

"Mr. Potter...I had wondered about you."

Harry smiled gently but said nothing.

"You wish to at last replace your wand?"

"Yes."

"Then it shall be done." Ollivander moved quickly to the end of the first row. Bending slightly, he fumbled about in concentration. He was incredibly meticulous. Feeling nervous, he reached for Ginny, not caring anymore about how her family saw them.

Ollivander presented a plain box and opened it gently. Inside was a dark brown wand with a knotted grip. "Willow, 10 inches and Phoenix feather. This is your wand, Potter. There is no mistake."

Harry detached himself for a moment in order to compel his arm to take the wand. Nothing of its appearance reminded him of his enemies, and he took hold of it with renewed curiosity. There was a brief moment of silence, then a sudden whoosh of magic. Harry, almost flinching, was startled at the intense use of magic he had not felt in months.

Ollivander smiled warmly. "The wand is yours."

Harry held the wand, studying its features. Lost in thought, he realized something. "Sir, I didn't get any money from my vault!"

Kingsley made a move towards his pocket, but Ollivander raised a steady hand. "When I say the wand is yours, Potter, I had meant it."

Harry was shocked. "You're letting me have this?"

"Let's say, a gift for help long ago. In times of great peril."

He almost lost his vision with the tears swimming in his eyes. Harry shook the man's hand and held his wand with care.

"I hope to see you around, Potter. More than what we have seen, yes?"

Harry forced a smile, and the group turned to leave. Mrs. Weasley immediately embraced him. "Oh, darling!"

"Oy, stop smothering him, Mum!" Ron moaned.

They bickered for a moment, and Harry saw Kingsley turn to his pocket watch.

"Is it time to go?"

"Yes, unfortunately, our time is short. I would say your goodbyes and we will meet again."

Ginny held her head against his chest, and despite Ron's ears changing different shades of red, he held her tightly.

"Be good, will you?" Hermione said, tearing up. "Keep that green so we can do this again."

"I will."

Ginny kissed his cheek as the Weasley's and Hermione followed them out through the Leaky Cauldron. In a flash they had gone through the Floo Network, and all who was left was Kingsley.

"Here is our portkey. Are you ready?"

Harry held his boxed wand tightly and nodded, and in a swirling, sharp pull, he found himself just outside Dartford's campus. Kingsley straightened up his Muggle attire and led him towards the door to sign him in. Harry suddenly made another decision.

"Kingsley, wait!"

The man halted in concern. "Yes, Harry?"

He held out his wand to the Minister. "Please, take it. I don't want it here."

The man became alarmed. "Harry, this is a means of protection for you. The wand belongs to you."

He could see Aaron behind the glass, ready to meet at the desk. It only caused him more anxiety. "Sir, please! If I have this I am going to leave again. I just know that once I get the chance I'll go back and do everything that sent me here in the first place. I can't afford to do that. I don't want to fail anymore."

Kingsley acknowledged Aaron as well, but his focus was intently in Harry's eyes. "This is your only reason?"

"Yes. I mean, I know it seems I am doing great, but that is an everyday struggle. Give me the opportunity and I know progress will be gone. I don't want to run any longer."

The confusion and frustration Harry had seen were gone. Instead, the man appeared pleased. "You do not give yourself enough credit, Harry. Your improvement has been very strong, and I honor you for that. I will keep your wand. It will be waiting for you when you return."

Harry smiled and let the man take the box. Aaron waved from the door and opened it for them. He was obviously attempting to rush the farewell and Harry realized it was almost time to eat dinner.

"I will see you very soon. Good luck!"

"Goodbye, sir."

Aaron greeted him with a smile. "Successful pass?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, I hope I get to do that again."

"You will, don't worry about it. Everyone is ready for dinner and your dorm was already called. Let's get you some food."

Honestly, Harry was not feeling hungry at all after the ice cream and loads of sweets. He almost felt ill from the lot of it.

"What did you do on your afternoon out?"

He shrugged. "Oh, you know...went to hang out at our usual places. Got to see old friends."

"Good ones, right?"

Harry grinned. "The best ones."

He did not manage to see Mr. Birch that night, but Danny made sure to see him as soon as possible. With salad in his mouth, he demanded his gift.

"So, what did you get me?"

Harry felt dumb. "Oh, sorry. I completely forgot."

"WHAT? I told you, like, ten times to get me something."

He had, in truth forgotten. Touching his pocket, he realized there was one last candy from George. In almost a mischievous manner, he thought of giving it to Danny to see him turn purple right then and there in the dining hall. Harry entertained the idea and sighed. It would have been truly hilarious. 


	27. Snowballs and Memories

**Yay, new chapter! I expect there to be around 5 more chapters, but who's counting? Don't be discouraged by this chapter. I thank all of you for your continued support and hope you had a great holiday.**

Mid December blanketed Dartford with fresh snow. Harry found himself huddled under his covers Saturday morning, refusing to listen to Nate demanding that he get out.

"It's a big day, Harry. Enough hibernating."

Harry moaned underneath his pillow and shivered. It was too damn cold to do anything. Today was the day family were to arrive for the winter festival held by Dartford, and the so called Food Trucks and other festivities Nate had talked about were supposedly arriving around noon. Harry was excited about his friends coming to visit, he really was, but why did it have to be freezing out?

"I'm not coming out! Did the heat break?" His voice was muffled.

"Yeah, that would be John. He had the bright idea of turning it off overnight to see what his fellow house mates would do. Danny and Brian forced him into the shower with the cold water on."

"HA!"

"But, seriously, get up. We are going to eat and then spend the morning making sure this dorm is spotless, and help the staff set up the booths in the Lodge." Nate did one last pull of the blankets and Harry was left exposed to the chill. He complained loudly.

No one dared to shower. Harry layered himself and shoved a black beanie over his head and his hair spiked out from under it. They met Sara at breakfast. Recently her promiscuous behavior was getting the better of her, and now she sported a yellow wristband. That morning she was appearing very morose wearing a pink fluffy winter hat and giant earmuffs. Harry would have laughed if he hadn't noticed her face.

"What's wrong with you?" Danny asked.

Sara glared at him. "Nice to see you too."

"Are you cold and grumpy today like I am?" Harry asked.

Tears filled her eyes and she immediately began making high pitched whining sounds. Danny met his eyes and looked very uncomfortable. Unsure what to do, as usual with crying girls, Harry poked at his waffles and avoided the situation altogether. She was beginning to attract stares from the other residents.

"So, er, have any people coming today, mate?"

Harry nodded, trying to not think about Sara. "Yeah, lots. My friend Ron's whole family and one other friend. Should be good."

Danny scoffed. "Lucky. I think my brother Noel will be here. He's the only decent one in the family."

"What does he do?"

"I dunno...construction or something. As long as he doesn't bring his high maintenance girlfriend with him it would be great to get in touch again. Is yours coming?"

Harry felt an excited chill run down his back. "Yeah, she's Ron's sister."

At once Sara appeared to have ended her crying spell. Both boys watched her, thinking she was going to add something to the conversation. Instead she stared blankly at the table.

"Er, anyway," said Danny. "Isn't that odd, dating your mate's sister?"

"Oh, loads. At first anyway. I couldn't look at her without him turning red in the ears."

"Is she hot?"

Harry's face bloomed pink. "Of course she is. Bright red hair too."

…...

The staff seemed more bustly that day. Excitement for the day's activities had everyone talking, and discussions all gravitated towards family visits. There were talks of a snowman making contest between dorms and it only made him feel more cold. Harry attempted to chug his hot cider and ended up burning himself. On the way back to the dorm he jogged in place to keep warm, wondering why on Earth they had an open air campus and not inside a large building.

Jobs were assigned by point of finger. After cleaning his own room with Danny, his chore was tackling the windows and cleaning out the inside of the sofas. Danny grumbled about being the poor sod who had to clean the bathroom.

"They aren't even coming into our dorm to take a shit! Why do we have to deep clean? It's not the first of the month."

Nate, possibly wishing he hadn't decided to work extra hours that day, waved to say 'carry on' . Harry was having fun cleaning out the cushions, collecting a surprising amount of change squeezed between them.

Slowly but surely, the game booths were set up within the Lodge, and the food trucks pulled in back inside the track's circle. Harry could see the names "Rico's Spanish Food," "Garrett's Kitchen," and "Mama's Meat Pies." He was growing very excited.

"All right now, Maple," Nate said. "The electric heaters and being set up now, and it is only a matter of time before our visitors come. There are, however, rules."

There was an outcry of moans.

"I'm 31, not 15." said the newbie Jacob.

"The rules are… no contraband! You WILL be checked before coming back into the dorm. Also, make sure you have appropriate conversations between your visitors, and other residents' visitors. If you see something that needs our attention, tell us immediately, such as prohibited items or...let's say...excessive romantic behavior."

Danny made thrusting movements and Harry forced himself not to laugh. Nate ignored him.

"We all have until 3pm for this event, so make sure you enjoy your time."

They filed out, and Harry was already looking everywhere for the Weasley's. The gates were opened and manned by a weekend staff, but he couldn't see the familiar red hair.

"Oh, yeah!" Danny exclaimed. Harry turned to see him run forward and greet a scrawny unshaven man in his mid thirties. "Oy, mate, this is my brother Noel."

Harry smiled politely and shook the man's hand.

"So this is the guy?" asked Noel, grinning.

"Sure is!"

Harry gave an awkward glance at Danny. "What the hell are you telling people about me?"

He received a slap on his back. "Only the good stuff. Like how you're all the quiet type then suddenly kung fu a table on a man's face."

A smirk crossed his face. "Oh, yes...that. Well, he deserved that one. If you hadn't stopped me I could have done worse, you know?"

"So, that's Harry," Danny said laughing. "I dunno where Sara is, do you?"

Looking around, Harry shrugged, forgetting entirely about her. "A bit odd. She's usually hanging with us."

The crowd grew louder as family's gathered together, and staff were attempting to guide towards the track where food tables were set up. Harry almost wanted to plug his ears from the Ash dorm girls squealing over seeing someone they knew.

"You can go on ahead," he said to Danny and Noel. "They should be here soon."

"Forget that! I want to see your hot girlfriend."

Harry squinted his eyes, warning him to keep his mouth shut.

"Joking, mate. Are these the friends who are wrapped up with that douche?"

Realizing he was talking about Voldemort, Harry nodded, but he couldn't manage to respond over the enormous shriek from people very familiar.

"HARRY!"

All three of them spun around to greet the Weasley's and Hermione. Beaming, he reached his arms out to embrace a very excited Ginny. She smelled of Molly's kitchen and a bit of lavender. He could hold her like that all day if he could.

"All right, all right, stop it," said Ron. "Two seconds only."

"I'm not a baby anymore!"

Hermione smiled wide when Ginny released him to hit her brother, and used that moment to give Harry a deep warm hug. "How are you?"

"Great. It's good to see everyone." He could see Arthur and Molly attempt to fight the crowd behind them. George must have not been able to make it with the joke shop business back in full swing.

Danny suddenly cut in front of Harry and bent down to take Hermione's hand. "Hello, I'm Danny. You are?"

She appeared very unprepared and laughed, flattered. "Oh, yes, hello. Hermione."

The man bent down to kiss her hand and Harry bumped him on the hip. "Shove off, mate, she's taken."

"Oy, by who?"

Harry laughed and pointed over to a very fuming Ron. Danny's face fell. "Oh, right. Sorry about that, mate, carry on."

Ron went to grab Hermione, who Ginny was giggling with. Molly and Arthur had finally made it through, and Harry could see she was bursting to see him.

"Oh, darling, you look amazing!" He fell into one of her crushing hugs. "Doing well, yes?"

Harry nodded and shook Arthur's hand. "Yeah, I am. Everyone this is Danny. He's my roommate."

The man was already embarrassed by his behavior with Ron and Hermione, and all he gave were polite shakes of the hand, hoping not to offend anyone. "You've got quite the group there."

Molly smiled. "Oh yes, we've known Harry for years now. Such a sweet boy!"

Harry felt his face turn red. "Should we head to the track, then?"

Ron turned his head where Harry was pointing, and his eyes grew very large. "What are those?"

Harry sighed, wondering how long it was going to take before any of the Weasley's would begin saying things such as 'merlin's beard' or embarrass themselves about not understanding basic Muggle objects. "That's all the food trucks. I want to get a meat pie I think."

Ginny wrapped her arm around his waist and Danny took the lead with his brother. He laughed to himself, watching Ron and his father stare with their mouths open. He could see Nate signing groups up for the snowman making contest wearing an elf hat, not afraid to humiliate himself at all.

"I have my eye on you Danny!" The man hollered as they past.

"Me?" Danny said, horrified. "I think you meant to say Harry."

"Not at all!"

Harry grabbed the man's hat and threw it across the yard, grinning ear to ear. "Don't sell me out!"

"Ass!" Danny ran after it and came back kicking at him. Harry blocked it easily, laughing.

"Do you see what I have to deal with?"

Noel was smirking. "Oh, I'm sure dealing with someone like yourself is a struggle."

"I'm in the green!"

Ginny grabbed Harry's sleeve to see his color and smiled when she confirmed it was still a green as well. "Oh good."

He nodded. "See, I told you." He was about to say something to her about what she wanted to eat, but Danny cut him off.

"Hey, look, Sara's standing off by the phys ed room."

He followed where he was pointing, and sure enough, there was Sara in her fluffy hat and earmuffs. She was clearly not enjoying herself.

"You think any of her family came?" he asked.

"Doesn't look like it."

Harry's heart ached for her, remembering how she had told him months ago how they cut her off entirely. He was feeling guilty enjoying himself. Danny waved to have her join them, but all she did was fold her arms. Harry had a funny feeling she was glaring at him.

"Or not," Danny said. "Well, I'm gonna get a burrito. What about you, Noel?"

Harry, on the other hand, was trying to not feel embarrassed by the fact Ron and Arthur were tracing the rivets of the trucks, as if impressed. Hermione appeared to feel the same way and pulled Ron towards her. "Stop it, seriously!"

Ginny shivered and he pulled her close. "When we get our food we can get hot chocolate and sit by the heaters."

She smiled, then leaned in to whisper, "Is that what those are?" She gestured over to the standing posts.

He sighed. "I love you."

He and Ginny shared a very large meat pie, when everyone picked a food truck, they came back to sit together in a circle. Arthur was trying very hard not to be amazed by the heater and plastic chairs. Ron was still insulted by Danny's advance toward Hermione, so he held himself silent by shoving his face with food.

"I suppose I should give thanks to you for snapping some sense into my brother." Said Noel.

Harry was surprised. "Really?"

"Quit it will you?" Danny hissed.

Noel ignored him. "I think him feeling like he has a younger brother is giving him some other purpose than failing miserably here."

"Hey, I have a green because the lawyer said I had to get it together or else."

"Not what you said."

Harry felt very humble by Noel's words, and he could see that they were in fact true thinking back on all that Danny had done over the past few months.

"Well, we should say the same." said Hermione, grinning at Harry. "It seems you two really get along."

"I really wish you could have met Mr. Birch," said Harry, almost disappointed. "He's amazing. He doesn't work weekends, though."

Danny snorted. "If he uses the word 'OD' one more time, dear God."

"Well, don't OD."

He gave Harry a mocked glare but his brother didn't think it was funny. "Listen to your therapist, seriously. You know that's Mum's greatest fear when you get out of here."

Ginny was completely oblivious. "What does that mean?"

Harry thought carefully without making Danny feel too embarrassed. "It means overdose. Like taking too many drugs it kills you."

"Oh," she whispered. "Sorry."

"Look, I got rid of that Ethan prick, yeah? He's the one supplying all the drugs here and I got him out so neither of us had the chance."

Harry sighed heavily. "He never dealed out enough to OD on, you know it."

"Enough to get YOU high, and get a punch in the stomach."

Harry felt the angry shame burn up into his face and Noel apologized. "Sorry, Danny, didn't mean to get you to feel defensive."

"You're back on drugs?" Hermione almost shouted at him, completely livid. Ron stopped chewing.

Harry groaned. "No!"

"You sort of were, mate. Two hits of coke is still doing drugs."

If Harry could have knocked Danny's lights out without anyone watching he would have done so. He was doing his best to avoid Ginny's scrutinous eyes judging him.

"Oh, Harry, dear," Mrs. Weasley said sadly. "You were doing so well."

"That was almost two months ago! Since when did this conversation go from you to me?"

"Danny does that so he doesn't feel bad about himself, don't you Danny?"

"Anywho…" The man said to change the subject. "I heard from Nate that after the snowman thing he's doing, they are setting up the mass snowball fight. I say we compete on different sides."

A sly smirk crossed Harry's face. "Is that a challenge?"

"Oh, you bet it is!"

Harry was surprised to hear Ginny laugh, seeing as how she was giving him death glares moments before. "You two are ridiculous!"

"You don't know the half of it, Gin. This poor man has attempted to beat me at track and table tennis for months now and thinks he's now going to win in a snowball fight."

"It could happen." said Danny, then muttering to his brother about how 'today is the day.'

Most of everyone's plates were empty. Harry stood and offered to take their paper plates to the trash can, but not surprisingly, Ron and Danny wanted to hold onto theirs for seconds. In that same instant, almost as if he were back at the party with Jackson and David, Harry felt the lurching fear of being violated. He knew it was Sara, as he saw her hat in the corner of his eye. She had almost been waiting for the moment. Harry felt her searching hand grasp his groin and step away...eyes meeting Ginny's with a satisfied smirk.

"What the fu-" he cried, almost dropping the plates.

Everyone's mouth fell open, shocked. Ginny, on the other hand, had turned a bright...no...a deep crimson red. Harry could see the fury on her face even more terrifying than her mother's. At once she jumped to her feet. "THAT BITCH!"

"Ginny, stop it!" He grabbed her waist and attempted to push her down into the chair. They were now turning heads.

"Who the hell is SHE?"

"That's Sara," said Danny, feeling very uncomfortable. "She's here for, er, those issues. Ever since she learned you and Harry were back together she's been acting really weird. Actually, she's been very weird all day."

Ginny glared at him. "Did you date her?"

"No!" Harry protested, still shaken. "She locks onto men and when she doesn't get her way she acts like that. Like I'm some piece of property."

Mrs. Weasley was horrified. "Absolutely foul, she is! No morals."

He sighed heavily. "Let me go talk to her and see what the hell that was all about."

"Get me another burrito while you're at it."

Harry glared at Danny and dropped the plate into the trash. He was pissed off to say the least, and there stood Sara off to the side, smiling as he stormed in her direction.

"What the hell are you doing, Sara? That was in front of my friends and my girlfriend."

"I know. I think I was very clear."

He couldn't believe what she was saying. "I don't belong to you. No one belongs to you!"

Sara's smile faltered. "Yes you do. You have been mine for a long time now. She just needs to get that in her head. So do you."

He sighed, sharply, and closed his eyes trying to think of the best words to say. "You're a kind friend. That's who you are. I don't want a relationship with you. You need to tell Mr. Birch about these feelings because you really need to work on them."

"What did you say?"

Harry immediately noticed that he had triggered her. Her demeanor was dangerous, and for a moment he was afraid of what she might say. "You know what I said, Sara. You're a friend. I don't want to have a relationship with you because I'm dating Ginny."

"Liar! She's no good for you! You pushed her away and I was there for you, but now you took her back. She doesn't love you like I do!"

"Damn it, Sara, what is wrong with you today? I'm sorry your family didn't come for you, but don't take your abandonment issues on me!"

Sara let out a furious scream and before Harry could move, her gloved fist slammed against his lip. He felt the ring she wore tear at his mouth, but before her other hand hit his cheek Harry deflected it and spun her away from him. Instantly he could feel his lip swell. Harry could hear a distinct shout of Ginny's name from behind him.

Sara let out another angry growl and made a move at his face, but Harry had enough of it. With the staff taking too long to intervene, he turned her around and restrained her arms across her chest and let her scream as much as she wanted.

The weekend staff from Ash were already running past the food trucks and ordered him to let her go.

"She was hitting at me!" Harry shouted.

"You're fine," said Tyler. "We just don't want her restrained by non staff."

Ginny was at his side in an instant threatening to plant her fist into Sara's head.

"I'm not talking to you, cow!"

Harry's heart flew to his throat in fear, and he knew that if she had her wand, Ginny would have cursed her to oblivion.

"Enough, Sara! You're going to Blue for an hour. Harry, we'll do an incident report later. Go enjoy your relatives for today. Do you need an ice pack?"

Harry was confused, but after noticing a metallic taste in his mouth he realized his lip was bleeding. "Er, no. It's not that bad."

Ginny turned to him at once and inspected his wound. "I can't believe that bitch. Looks like a small spot and swelling but that's it."

"I really don't know what all that was about. She's never like that."

Ginny kissed his sore lip gently and took his hand to head back to the group. "I really don't care. You know what I think she is."

He could read the expressions on everyone's faces and didn't want any part of it. "How about that snowball fight?"

Danny continued to stare at him with round eyes, but gave a slight nod. "Sure...why not? Am I supposed to ignore your bloody swollen lip?"

Harry gave a quick nod. "Yep!"

…..

The rest of the day ran smoothly. Nate blew the whistle to commence the snowball throwing, and within seconds up to thirty men, women and children fought with no mercy. Harry was having the time of his life. Even in the midst of the cold he began sweating, and he was amused at Ginny's cheeks splashed with red. He packed a good amount of snow and chucked it straight into her face.

"Oof! Harry Potter, how dare you!"

He was tackled and fell dramatically onto his back, allowing her to place a deep kiss against his mouth.

Nate didn't miss a second. "Okay, okay ,okay, enough of that!"

Danny overreacted. "Ew! Excessive romantic behavior!"

Harry needed that day more than anything. Not only did it add a brief respite of the everyday mundane life at Dartford, he was able to share a bit of his new life with the people he loved the most. Mrs. Weasley left his gift in the front office for inspection and distribution on Christmas. He already knew what it was and it made him smile.

"Be good, my love," Molly whispered, holding him tightly. "We can't wait for you to return to us safe and sound."

Harry was stifling the knot in his throat and didn't want to return to the daily grind. Even Danny, while waving his brother off, gave a very depressed sigh. "Well, back to the same old same old."

Eventually, Harry's thoughts drifted back to Sara. Her actions had definitely damaged their relationship. He continued to feel stunned by the fact his friends had witnessed her grab him, and felt utter shame of her. The incident had dropped her down to a red, for the first time in months and Harry still had no idea what had triggered her that day to behave that way. Nate told him to leave it up to Mr. Birch.

Speaking of Birch, Harry met with him the following Tuesday fully prepared to discuss the confrontation over the weekend, but he was definitely surprised by the Birch's new approach to therapy.

"I think you're ready."

Harry paused. "You really think so?"

Mr. Birch smiled and gave a weak shrug. "It's hit or miss with patients. EMDR is recommended by myself at this time due to your stay growing increasingly short here. I cannot let you leave here without being sure of your reaction to traumatizing stimulus. You will be having plenty of that once you leave this therapeutic environment." Harry could see a box with wires plugged in with two round handles on the table.

"How does it work?"

"Take them in your hand...that one in your right hand. The pieces with vibrate at an even pace and the red light will flash. Follow the light and vibrations during the time I ask you to process a memory."

"That's a bit odd."

"It will make sense why once we carry on." Birch settled himself higher in his chair and prepared his notebook, setting the box into his reach. "I think the best memory to start on would be one involving Bellatrix. Can you think of one?"

It took Harry only a second. "When she hit Sirius into the veil. Then she mocked me while I ran after her."

"All right then. Before I start I want you to focus on that memory. Think about what was happening, what you were feeling, and remember the others that were there. This will be difficult, but I ask that you push through. Can you do that?"

Harry suddenly became increasingly anxious. "For how long?"

"I will try to push the vibrations up to twenty seconds. After that you can take a break."

He took the handles hesitantly. This entire time at Dartford was preparing him for today.

"I'm going to turn them on. While you follow the lights, think of that memory in great detail."

Harry didn't have a choice. The box was turned on and once the vibrations began, he did his best to follow the rotating lights on each handle. He allowed the memory to take hold of him. He could recall Ginny, Hermione and Ron sneaking around the Dept of Mysteries, searching for his godfather. " _I don't think Sirius is here."_ Hermione said. Harry remembered the sinking feeling of realization. They were caught with the prophecy, and Bellatrix was mocking him " _I want to know where Sirius is! Whittle baby!"_ Lucius was turning his attention to torture Ginny to get what he wanted. Harry hadn't realized it through the thoughts, but a painful lump choked him once the vibrating ended. He attempted to steady his breathing.

"Now, what were you focusing on?"

Harry cleared his throat. "I was understanding that the dream wasn't real. I was in denial and ordered them to tell me where he was."

"Focus on that." The buzzing started once again.

It was a cacophony of shouts, yells and him trembling in fear. Hermione was struck, falling into a faint. He had almost believed she was dead. Neville's nose was bleeding, Luna...he had forgotten she was there...they were all trying to survive. Then...there was Dumbledore. Harry remembered the flood of relief, and the excitement when he suddenly saw his godfather firing spells at their attackers. The Order had come to protect him after falling into one of Voldemort's traps. As if he were standing and watching it from afar, Harry could see everything. His spells were useless. The Death Eaters were blocking them easily while Remus and Sirius stood circling Harry. " _Come on, you can do better than that!"_ he recalled him boasting. And that was the last he ever said. There was the light to his chest, then slowly, he faded away into the veil.

Then there was only shock.

Harry let out a moan of grief and Birch immediately shut off the box. He directed Harry to breathe, but said nothing until he became more in control.

"What did you see?"

Frustrated, Harry began to hate the man. What the fuck did he think he saw? "My friends were hurt. I was afraid we were all going to die until help came. Then he was killed."

"One last time, Harry, I need you to focus on that memory. Concentrate on the lights."

The movement gave a mild distraction, Harry began to notice. In some instances he had to force out the facial expressions of others in the memory. The pain after did not need reminding. Harry watched himself crawl out of his skin, beat the door, shout at Dumbledore about not caring anymore. He felt every bit of it...just as he had the guilt of causing his godfather's death. Why had he not listened to Snape in the first place? Or that time he offered Cedric to take the cup with him to be fair, then get him murdered? His ears filled with Hermione screaming as Bellatrix pinned her down and carved into her skin.

"Harry." He heard Birch call from far away. His voice was cautious.

In an instant monstrous tears burst through him. Harry felt the urge to get away from himself...unfeel his body...anything to get rid of the soul eating guilt. He had to make them stop, it was consuming him.

He reacted. The handles flew across the room, and he launched himself at Birch's desk to grasp the scissors in his trembling hands. Mr. Birch tackled his body against the desk, knocking the wind out of him.

"Harry, STOP!" The man shouted, trying to twist the scissors out of hand. "RADIO!"

Harry was fighting back. "Get off! It was all my fault and you know it! Everything! I almost lost everyone because of my stupid mistakes!" He had to do it! It was the only way to end his torment. With a violent thrust, Harry knocked Birch sideways and kicked him away. He could do it...he had every will to stab himself in the throat. It would be so easy.

Birch regained composure, refusing to let Harry hold him off. "Put it down!" The man shoved Harry into the wall and held the arm with the scissors firmly against the drywall. Both knocked their glasses askew.

The door burst open loudly. Kevin from the Ash dorm immediately pulled Harry from his therapist and fought to force his arms around his chest.

"LET GO OF ME!"

Kevin said nothing. Birch knocked the scissors out of his grasp and Kevin wasted no time to knock Harry behind his knee and place both of them against the couch as they fell.

Harry was enraged. His strength was almost double. Kevin's grip slipped and Harry managed to overpower the man's hold on him. Birch barricaded the door just before he could push himself off the floor.

"Think about what you're doing, Harry." The man was out of breath.

"I CAN'T THINK! I can't even stand to be myself right now!" He was looking for anything to hurt himself with, even if he had to punch open the window and leap out.

Kevin could see him thinking the same thing. Harry landed one forceful blow to the glass. His knuckled erupted in pain, but the reinforced window did not budge. Kevin held him into a forced restraint, and Nate came in to help, pinning his legs against the floor. Harry was left to give up. After fifteen minutes in the hold, Kevin and Nate led his wearied mind to Blue where he fell into the bed in exhaustion. The nurse gave him a pill to relax. Harry was heartbroken over his disgust with himself, and how he failed at doing something Birch thought he was ready for. The medicine kicked in, and he felt himself drifting off, barely able to feel the sheets on his face.


	28. Crash and Burn

**One more chapter after this! Thank you for reading and reviewing it means a lot.**

"I should be apologizing to you, Harry." Mr. Birch said quietly. He held his hand thoughtfully at his mouth, maintaining firm eye contact at the boy in front of him. Three hours had passed since his frenzied outburst. Harry had awoken to the dim room he was all familiar with trying to recollect the last few hours in his head. " _What a loony._ " That was all he could think about, honestly.

Harry had to look away. "I'm the one who kicked you."

"Panic will do that. I am apologizing for setting you up in that situation and assuming it was time."

Harry shrugged, pretending to be interested in what Nate was doing outside the door. He really didn't feel like talking about it.

"You understand that you don't need to explain yourself, yes?"

"I feel like I have to in order not to fully regret what I did. I think of these memories often...maybe I don't focus on them, I don't know. It has been a long time since I've sat with it and remembered the whole night. I don't know how it escalated to all the other failures I've done."

Birch did not seem to be shocked. "Memories travel during EMDR. Think of it like a stepping stone. One distant thought becomes broken down, explored, and your mind pulls similarities. Overall, your trigger and trauma is guilt, not necessarily your godfather dying."

"I think I had to feel that in order to understand it."

"Yes and no. I had to test EMDR with you now, to really gauge where you are therapeutically."

Harry was afraid to know the answer. "And?"

Mr. Birch held his words to himself, and Harry could almost see the thoughts turning within his head. The man was hesitant to speak.

"Your court date is coming up early next month, which is your expected discharge from Dartford as you remember. You lawyer Sean asked me for clinical documentation and my personal recommendations that he could present to the judge."

Harry's heart froze for a moment. "You told him that I'm attending all of my groups, right? And that I've been green for two months? I made up for the drugs I took."

"All achievements you have made."

He was becoming frustrated. "Well?"

The man cleared his throat gently. "I am talking about long term stability from your symptoms, and sobriety from substances."

"Look where I came from!" Harry almost shouted. "I'm doing loads better!"

Birch didn't blink. "From my clinical judgment, Harry, you will remain strong for a good measure of time, but you will relapse quickly. If you cannot control the hold that your past has on you, today will happen again and again."

Harry became livid. "What did you tell him?"

"I am requesting that the judge order you at least two more months. Your past is excruciating, Harry, I need you to understand that. It is uncommon, regrettable, and I am not willing to lose you to yourself when you leave this place."

In his imagination, Harry was beating upon the man. He was fighting through betrayal...and it hurt. "You don't know that."

"I do not expect you to be cured leaving here. I expect to try and give you the skills for longer lasting success. I do not feel comfortable with that now."

"So, I'm just going to stay here?" he asked miserably.

"The judge can take my suggestions into account but dismiss them. We have no other word in it."

Harry knew that his therapist was concerned for his life. Just hours before he was going to rip out his throat with an easily accessible household item. But he felt so ready if he didn't have to think about Sirius...or Dumbledore...even Dobby or his owl. He could not imagine grieving for every single one of them again.

"It will kill me," he said softly. "Doing that EMDR for everything that has happened. I can't do that for two more months."

Birch held his breath for a brief second. "I would not be able to either, Harry. Your life has not been kind, and if I were to be completely honest with you, it angers me what you have gone through. I need you to trust and believe me when I express this concern of you leaving too soon."

Harry's eyes were rimmed with tears hearing what his therapist had said. Someone was acknowledging that his inner battles were indeed difficult, and he was not a coward for failing. "I just don't want to do it."

"You're sure about not continuing with EMDR?"

He nodded. Harry did not care that he did not want to address his issues. Sure, he could follow those lights so many times the memories were a bore, but he was not willing to fight to get there.

Mr. Birch sighed. "That's your choice. I understand. But now, and if the judge extends your stay, we are focusing on guilt. If we address that, we can hit the root of some of your worst memories."

…..

The court date couldn't come soon enough. Neither could Danny's discharge. Harry felt his throat tighten as he watched his friend pack up his bag and gather the sheets off the bed. It was a hard day for both.

"Look, er…" Danny said quietly. "Here is my brother's number. When you get out call him so we can meet up, yeah? I will have a mobile by then."

Harry took the paper, nodding. "You going to stay with him for awhile?"

"Yeah, at least until Brian gets out in a few weeks. My probation officer will be helping me find a job and everything. Hopefully it works out."

"It will," Harry said, not wanting to make eye contact. "We can all meet up again."

Danny clapped a strong hand around his shoulders and grinned. Harry smiled back but was not able to say anything. It was just that quick. Harry was feeling very conflicted about his friend's discharge, which normally would be a very exciting day. Danny himself was not as rambunctious. Perhaps he was more afraid than he let on, but Harry never really knew.

The mood in the dorm was uncomfortably different, even Nate was frowning. That night, he sat on his bed staring at the empty one across from him with longing. He really hoped that they would see each other very soon.

The day of the court hearing blanketed the lawn with a thin sheet of snow. During his stay at Dartford Harry managed to just barely earn his GCSE. He sat on his bed early that morning and skimmed through the skills book created over the past six months, thinking of the memories of Wyatt, Ethan, Danny, even Sarah. After her past outbursts, she had calmed herself down quite a bit, and was the same girl he first met at Dartford.

"I'm leaving in a few weeks, Harry," she had said the day before. "Here's my phone number and address for when you leave!"

Harry fingered the field day ribbons and listened to the boys outside the door laugh at something on tv. He really was going to miss this place if the judge didn't grant Mr. Birch's request. Part of him wished that he would. Mr. Willow had sent in the list of services that Harry would have once he left the treatment center. The man had set up a PO box for mail, typically mail from the courts, probation and any friends wishing to write. Harry had told him he was returning to Grimmauld Place (much to the dismay of the Weasley's) and Mr. Willow wrote down the address anyway, stating that the probation office doesn't actually do house calls. Harry laughed at the thought of some well dressed woman wandering around the street looking for number 15. His lawyer had also set it up to where Mr. Birch could still be his primary therapist outside of Dartford due to 'excellent progress' not able to come from anyone else. Just as long as Aaron didn't find out.

Nate slipped through the door and gave a quick wave, removing him from his thoughts. "Aaron's calling for you, Harry. You have everything packed just in case?"

"Er, yes. Thanks." He could see the man's face fall as he saw the bag at the foot of the bed.

"You'll be missed, you know?"

Harry laughed. "Who knows, I'll probably come walking back and be stuck here for two more months."

"Better you than Danny."

He couldn't help but grin.

Harry eagerly stared out the window of the van Aaron was driving to the courthouse. He had forgotten how big London was. Sure, he had gone out on pass with others on the weekend, but nothing so far into the city.

Aaron laughed. "Close your mouth, Harry. You have the same face everyone has when I do this."

"Do you think I'll be coming back?"

The man shrugged. "Not sure. I don't get to read anything your lawyer puts in. Even if you do come back, you will have a place for you, as always."

Harry smiled. "That's good to hear."

Pulling in, Harry could see it was a busy day, and it was not as threatening as it had been six months before. It took a great deal of time to find a place to park the van, and Aaron became pressured for time. They managed to catch an empty spot just before another car turned behind them. Harry had to run to catch up with the man, where Sean met them both in the atrium.

"Hello, Harry. It's the big day. Although a bit late."

He nearly had his toes stepped on by a running woman with a briefcase. "Yes, well, I definitely have been counting down the days."

"Just like last time, it will be quick. The Weasley's are coming, of course, and if you are released, you will have your first visit with probation tomorrow. Otherwise, we repeat the process again in two months."

They filed in line through the set of halls and Harry could see the screens on the wall list out names with time and court location. He managed to just spot himself on the docket before it moved to the next group of names.

"Looks like Judge Murray changed courtrooms. Let's go to room 8."

They followed Sean towards the correct location, and Harry could see who exactly was there for court, and who was a lawyer. Women came bursting through the doors crying about how it wasn't fair. Harry was overly curious.

Sean turned, forcing him to stop immediately. He did not realize that they had arrived at their courtroom. "Harry, remember, do not speak unless spoken to by the judge."

"Yes."

"And if you are to remain at Dartford, as we are suggesting due to your therapist's' advice, I will sign an extension and a copy of it from the judge will end up with Aaron here."

"What if I go home?"

"You will be given a paper to send to probation down the hall and set up an appointment to be back here tomorrow. They cannot assign someone in the same day. They will go through what the next six months will look like. The Weasleys, I'm sure, will make sure you leave here supported."

Harry had butterflies in his stomach, both of excitement and anxiety. He was so close to going home, but so close to maintaining the familiar home and routine of Dartford. The idea of returning home to Grimmauld left an empty spot in his soul, much different than his thoughts a month ago.

Aaron jarred him from his daydreaming. "Look, those are the Weasley's, yes?"

Harry followed where the man was pointing to and smiled. "Yeah." He could see them traveling slowly in a pack trying to find where he was. Harry waved them down.

Just then a group of people left the courtroom and they had to step away to allow the very exuberant bunch to leave. Someone's day was going well.

Sean was called inside to speak with the judge and other attorneys, leaving Harry to enjoy the sudden company of his friends. In all honesty, he was too nervous to really speak. He managed a smile and a small hello, but mostly paced back and forth as Aaron attempted to start a conversation with them-noticing Harry's behavior.

Ginny gave Harry's hand a quick squeeze and she paced with him, not saying a word, and he thanked her for it. He was using the detachment and grounding skills he learned from Dartford and it seemed to be working well. By the time the doors opened he was much more ready than he had been when he had arrived.

Judge Murray appeared the same-disgruntled and buried behind files. Harry sat next to Sean and made eye contact with the Weasley's, who grinned brightly. He tried not to smile.

The woman to his right spoke. "This is case J4439 in the matter of Harry Potter."

"Yes," said Judge Murray. "I remember this one."

Harry felt himself shrink inside his chair.

"So, Potter, you had multiple charges on your head, including assault of an officer and domestic violence that was dropped. Trespassing, etc, etc, but you were sent to Dartford to redeem yourself." The judge look above his papers to Sean. "He was successful I see?"

Sean cleared his throat. "Yes, sir. Tremendous improvement over the past two months."

The man raised an eyebrow. "The therapist, Mr. Allan Birch, also remarks that progress. Why do you challenge an additional two months, Willow?"

"Sir, the therapist notes hesitation with discharge due to the fact that when confronted with past memories in a trauma session my client relapses. On the one occasion this was done, Mr. Birch used EMDR and the client attempted to harm himself."

Harry sank deeper in embarrassment.

The judge reviewed the paperwork briefly but continued to challenge. "I never requested Mr. Potter to be cured. This court has set the demand for him to participate in treatment in order to gain stability enough to be able to manage behaviors on a daily basis. He was to avoid future visits to this courtroom for a true charge. Potter has been excelling behaviorally at Dartford and has even earned his secondary degree."

Sean said nothing and Harry had a feeling where this was going.

The judge turned to face him directly. "Potter, do you believe that you can keep yourself out of my courtroom?"

"Yes."

"Do you feel more successful after Dartford?"

"Yes."

"Your lawyer stated that you decompensated after a trauma session using EMDR. Is that true?"

Harry nodded. "I wasn't ready for it, even though I had tried."

Judge Murray waved his hand as if swatting off a fly. "Mr. Willow, whether Potter stays an extra two months or not, he may not even be able to fully process until long after. Nor do I wish this therapist to push for it within that small time frame. Mr. Potter is stable, which is what I asked for. He has understood what had led him here, which is also what I asked. All further treatment will be done outpatient, where he can maintain his stability. I trust such services have already been set up?"

Harry's heart leaped with excitement. He was going home! The Weasley's squirmed giddily in their seats, causing him to grin at Ginny's smiling face.

Sean kept his monotoned composure. "Yes, he has an outpatient psychiatrist and therapist established, as well as placement."

"Good. Mr. Potter, I release you from Dartford and into the care of probation, which you will continue weekly until four months from now. Upon further review, six months is no longer needed. Court adjourned until the end of probation where I will see you again, Potter."

Harry was ecstatic. For the next few months, he was managing his depression fairly well when he was with the Weasley's. He met with his probation officer without a hitch, and sessions followed with Mr. Birch as they always had, this time at the man's private office just outside of London. Although neither had addressed EMDR again, Harry felt as though he was continuing to learn. If it couldn't have been more pleasing, Ginny had come to visit him almost daily. They enjoyed their first day in bed together, and it was just as amazing as he imagined it to be. Their hands clasped together amongst the sheets, and her hair smelled of lavender. He loved every part of her, and she had held him tightly to her so she would never let go again. Harry knew he could never love anyone else in the world.

Harry remained in contact with Sara and Danny weekly. Danny had indeed moved in with Brian, and it appeared all was going well for the time being. Sara was going to a small college for cosmetology and looking forward to life. Harry had even gone back to court and released himself from probation-and it was definitely a relief.

That was until he got the call.

Harry had been walking back to Grimmauld Place after purchasing a coffee from the corner shop. His cell phone rang, and the number was unfamiliar.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Potter," said the female voice. "It's Nicole."

Harry remembered her. She was the secretary that Mr. Birch often used to help him with his practice.

"Yeah, do I need to reschedule again? I thought I made it to all the appointments this month."

"Well," Then he tensed when she called him by his name. "Harry, dear. That's why I am calling. Mr. Birch passed away last night."

Harry's insides squeezed, and he stopped instantly. "W..what?"

"He was struck crossing the road to get to his car after breakfast. He wasn't able to make it through the night. I'm sorry."

In his mind, Harry had a lot to ask her. He just wasn't able to get anything out. "Oh.."

"I know that you finished your probation, but I can help you find another therapist to help process this. Her name is Annette Gibner and she knew him well. Can I set a time for you two to meet?"

Harry's shock quickly moved into panic. "No, no...I'll call you back." He quickly ended the call and phoned Sara. Did she know?

"Hey, Harry."

"Sara, did you hear about Mr. Birch? He just died yesterday!" Harry was having a difficult time trying to understand if he was still processing the news. Tears were now pooling around his eyelids and threatening to fall down his face.

There was a brief pause before an audible gasp. "No! How did you find out?"

"His assistant just called me. I need to let Danny know, too. I know he really liked him even though he never admitted it."

Sara was silent again.

"What?" he asked her.

"I was hoping you knew where he was. He hasn't answered my calls, and Brian says that he hasn't seen him for a few days. I hope he's okay."

In that instant...Harry became all too familiar with the aching throb of grief...of abandonment...and just like that, he was losing another mentor and a friend. He had to go home. Without a word, Harry ended the call and ran to his home. " _Use your skills, Harry."_ He almost heard it out loud. He burst into the kitchen and shut the door, attempting to ground himself and feeling the solid oak press against his back...his feet firmly on the ground...trying to imagine a light going from his feet to his head….but it wasn't working. With two hands he seized the faucet and splashed water on his face and wiped with a towel vigorously in attempt to awaken his senses. But that was not working either. As a last effort, he grabbed an apple from the corner basket and paced the floor, tossing the fruit back and forth between his hands, almost meditating on the movement. All of what he was doing were failing. Harry, for the first time in months, was beginning to feel the all consuming emotion of grief and not able to calm himself. It was the grief that dumped him unceremoniously into feelings he was, at this moment, unable to control. But now, he had no one like Birch to turn to.

Seizing the door to the kitchen, Harry then left his home, and made way to the very place that sent his life into a new type of hell.

By this time, there was nothing else on his mind. He found himself Apparating in front of the blue door #36, and the inhabitants were home. He wasted no time and knocked.

The voices faltered, and he could hear someone approach the door. As it opened, there was David, hungover as ever. "Oy, mate! It's you!"

Harry tried to smile. He peered behind the man and saw a person he did not recognize. "Jacks not here?"

David shrugged. "He moved out months ago. Actually went back to school, can you believe it? I don't know how he scored this, but he is living with that girl he liked and her sister. He's living the dream."

Harry wanted to feel happy for Jackson, as he had the discussion with the man before about reaching for his dreams, and all that, but his mind was only on one track.

David let him in and the man scurried to clear the sofa of cans and food so he could sit. The new roommate left and went to Harry's old room. "Sorry you had to come now, it's definitely not suitable for guests, ha ha."

Harry waved him off. "I'm not here for that, David. I don't mean to be rude, but I just lost someone close to me, and I might have lost another one, I don't know where he is, and I just want to forget for awhile."

Realization spread across the man's confused face, and if fell into a firm frown. "I can't do that, Harry. Not after all that had happened before."

"I don't care what happened back then. Nothing I am doing is making it better."

"I dunno what you do, mate. Write in a journal or something."

Harry was growing irritated. "Right now I am a paying customer and can even pay you what I owe from last time." He could see he was already fighting a losing battle. David was shaking his head for over a minute now and shutting down.

"I said no. If that is all you need, please leave."

Harry regretted it the moment he pulled out his wand. " _Imperio"_ David's face relaxed immediately, and a blank stare escaped from the man's eyes. He didn't need to say a word. David walked to the edge of the sofa and pulled up the backpack. Harry swiftly tore it from the man's hand and grabbed a handful of everything. David remained silent and steady. Without another word, Harry stashed them in his pockets and threw the door open. In an instant he Disappearated and stumbled into his door, moaning in shame. He grabbed his phone from his back pocket and tried to call Danny. It went straight to voicemail.

"Damn it!" he screamed. Where the hell was he? All Harry could think about was his friend lying dead in an alley.

Kreacher was out. He took no time but to head upstairs to the living space where he normally sulked, and on the way grabbed the alcohol he had left months ago. Each step forced him to face what he was going to do, and the shame burned his cheeks. For the next couple days he was going to feel nothing. He was going to force himself in such a high he couldn't determine what day it was. That was really all he could imagine in his head.

Minutes later, Harry's face was anguished in tears sitting at the sofa by the fire. He felt nothing about what could happen the next day, or even what he should do in this moment. He loathed himself entirely for stealing, unable to function, hell, everything. Harry had finished off over half of the rum, letting it burn painfully as he swallowed. A confusing feeling of disgust and happiness only caused him to desire more. In his drunken state, he forced two hits of cocaine in a matter of seconds, moaning in frustration. Harry shut his eyes, almost enjoying the feeling of his body drift from side to side, floating inside of himself. Several times he had to catch himself before he fell.

He couldn't do it. He had tried to follow what Mr. Birch had told him to do. All Harry could think of was that he gave up too easily. Birch always said he had too far high a standard for himself. That afternoon he just wanted to forget and feel absolutely nothing but his body drifting in the air. Complete focus and lack of emotion. Harry had no idea how long he lay slumped against the sofa. His mind was reeling with odd assortments of memories. He opened his eyes, slightly, and managed to let out a pitiful moan. The tears were coming back, and so were the most nasty people in his life.

" _You're nothing but a freak,boy!"_

" _No godfather to help you now!"_

" _Good for nothing boy, just like his father."_

He took one more line of coke.

Harry remembered the embarrassment of Rita Skeeter's articles and how they caused the anger to fuel his resentment for his name. He recalled the days where those he trusted most turned against him in times of doubt. It was worse than being alone. It was if he did not belong at Hogwarts or back at the Dursleys. He was simply nothing.

Harry could almost hear it….it was Bellatrix's laugh….her teasing finger drawing on his cheek. His heart thumped loudly into his chest, breath rapid. Screaming, he threw the cap to the alcohol across the room. This was enough! Fuck it! He had to feel, hear, and see nothing!

He was shaking. Harry drunkenly gathered the rest of the cocaine together in one large line, not caring that he was wanting to save some for later. Barely managing to roll the paper, Harry slammed the rest of the drink and inhaled the line in two breaths, burning his nose. He swallowed the pills-none of what he knew. Was it all too much? He didn't know, or care for that matter. All Harry could feel was an intense heat from his body. Was he burning? For a moment he was scared feeling his heartbeat tremendously fast. Harry thought he felt his body slip to the side and lay on the sofa...he was sure he felt the fabric on the back of his arms. Or was he really feeling anything at all? His eyes were rolling back in his high and drunk delirium.

Harry was drifting on his back, eyes closed with a small smile on his lips. He noticed that he was in a bright place. The confusion forced his eyes open. Adjusting his body he realized he was, in fact, on the cool ground of an odd, but familiar place. The drugged feeling was gone...the room he was in had gone...how had this happened?

"Harry, sweetheart." Came a soft woman's voice.

He gasped. Stumbling, Harry pushed himself up on his feet and stared longingly at the woman in front of him...his mother. At last!

"Mum!" Harry could not help it. He did not care how he ended up there, or what was going to happen next. He had to touch her.

Lily was smiling and Harry allowed the feeling of true love to embrace him. She was warm and welcoming. He wanted nothing else to do but to stay that way forever.

"Oh, my sweet Harry," she said lovingly. "I have wanted to hold you like this for so many years."

Harry cried. He was beginning to realize where he had drifted to. Just off to the side was a train ready to go, but Harry did not care, for he was with his mother.

"Mum, Mum!" he said through tears, gripping her arms. "I know where I am. I want to go with you! I want to see everyone….Sirius, Remus, Dad, all of them!"

Lily traced her finger across his cheek, but it was full of love, and he did not even think of the Slytherin who had done the same before. He could have fallen into her eyes...they truly were just like his. Harry was moved...everything about her was perfect.

"We all have been waiting for the day you come to us, Harry," she said. "I have gone so long without holding you."

He took her hands and pulled her gently towards the train. "Let's go! I'm ready!"

His mother touched his shoulders gently, not permitting him to step away from her. Harry was confused.

Lily's face was saddened. "My love, you have been hurting for too long. I have ached for you at every moment. You have destroyed the man who would have overrun our world, but you have slowly destroyed yourself."

Harry shook his head quickly. "No, I got better! I was just…" He was fighting to think. "I was having a hard day...I didn't mean to take that much. I just didn't want to feel anything!" Harry burst into tears, embarrassed his mother was aware of his vices.

"Sweetheart, you're in pain. My heart hurts for you. It always has, love. Your life needs to be fulfilled with joy and purpose, something you had lost some time ago."

Harry was becoming worried. "I want to leave with you! I don't have any other purpose when I am back there."

Lily's face was kind, but thoughtful. However, before she could say a word, Harry felt a violent thrust shove against his chest. Reeling a few steps backward, he gasped in fright.

Scared, he looked toward his mother. "W..What was that?"

Lily smiled. "They are calling you back."

He panicked. "NO! I want to be with you!"

His mother reached for his hands. She held them tightly, never moving her eyes from his. "You are more than you believe, Harry. I knew this the moment you were born."

Harry was growing frustrated. "I know, to kill Voldemort! He's dead, now I can be done with all of this!"

The sudden thrust set him a set backward, but he forced himself into his mother's embrace.

Lily held him gently. "My love, I died to give you life, and when I say that, I mean a full one with a life long journey."

Harry pressed the side of his head against her chest and tried to force his lips from quivering. "I can't seem to do that. After Voldemort died, there was no purpose. I need to go with you."

Her hold on him lessened, and he was pulled away from her. "Listen, Harry dear, you have risen above the worst things imaginable, but you never did them alone. You had your friends. Yes?"

"Yeah."

"Simply, what you have failed at, is to live on with your life just as you had before...with friends and to be never alone. I want nothing else of you but to grow, love, and become a husband and a father."

Harry felt the pull again, beating into his chest, and he could almost see the train begin to disappear. "But it's too hard. I've tried!"

Lily's face did not falter. "Let them in, Harry. All you have to do is let them in."

Tears were streaming down his cheeks, which she wiped away, as all mothers do. "Will you do this for me? For all of us?"

Harry noticed that the world he was in was fading, but his mother remained strong and whole. "Will I see you again? When I die?"

She smiled. "You will see all of us."

Harry embraced her tightly, taking in the smell of her hair, how it felt to actually touch her...she was all he had ever wanted.

"I will see you again." he whispered.

His mother said nothing. Her smile told him everything. The white train station was warping away, his mother was gone. He felt himself drift into darkness.

That was until his lungs seized, and he let out a loud, raspy breath. There was a commotion of shrieks, shouts, and sounds of something heavy being dragged away. All Harry knew was his that his lungs were burning, and an excruciating pain was stretched across his sternum.

"Harry! Harry, do you hear me?" At least he thought he heard someone say that. His world was still swirling, and he was feeling unbearably hot and nauseous.

"We need to move him to…" The voice faded away.

"What is all that?"

"Where the hell did he get them?"

"Will he make it there?"

Harry squirmed under the voices...they appeared to be getting louder. He felt a cool hand place itself on his forehead, instantly relaxing him. His body was on fire. Harry couldn't open his eyelids. He was barely able to comprehend what was going on, or who the people were around him. There was an audible WHOOSH sound, and Harry found himself coughing on soot before reaching another destination.


	29. Just Harry

**Here it is...the last chapter...hope I wrote it how I want because at midnight I am going to come up with something amazing and this is already published...but here it goes. Perhaps one day I will finish Upon a Winter Morning in the future as well, but who knows!**

Harry tried to open his eyes at the chaos happening around him, but his eyelids had become horribly heavy, and any light he could see pierced painfully. After a few minutes, he was becoming more aware of what he heard, and shame hit his heart immediately. Even through his fog, Harry could feel his body suspended in someone's arms who he knew to be familiar. The touch of the other was comforting, but tense. The last person Harry knew nothing of.

"Hurry, please," Arthur shouted. "He needs help!"

Harry felt himself be dropped onto a stretcher and grimaced over more painful voices clamoring. The soft hand gave him a squeeze, and then it was gone.

"Ginny…" he whispered, but he could not say anything else. She was not there. Harry tried to find her, but a firm grip straightened him back. He almost panicked, but as soon as a flare up of heat and nausea crossed his body in a wave, Harry knew instantly all would disappear. And it had.

…

There were dreams of himself at the age of 12, running through the grass at The Burrow with Ron. The pair of them were so happy, free, and the wizarding world had still amazed him as he saw Mrs. Weasley's tea kettle through the window pouring a cup a tea all by itself. What ached Harry the most in the dream, was the innocence he still had. Although burdened by the Dursley's and the previous school year, he was relatively whole, and the world had forgotten about evil in that moment. The discomfort of his current reality drew a tense darkness within his dream. The laughing turned into moans.

"Harry," came a soft voice. "You're just dreaming, wake up." Hands rubbed his chest gently, and he calmed down.

"I'll get the Mediwitch," someone with a deep voice said.

Harry opened his eyes, squinting tiredly, and he could see Ginny sitting beside the bed, beautiful as ever. They were alone in the room, and he immediately realized that he had done something extremely stupid.

"I didn't mean-"

She cut him off. "It doesn't matter. It happened." He could see tears filling her angry eyes. "It hurts, what you did. Don't you understand that?"

Harry himself felt the tightening of this throat. "I said that wasn't my plan. I was desperate, terrified, panicked, everything. I couldn't handle it." She wasn't saying a word, and he grabbed her hand. "I did not want to kill myself. I planned on numbing myself until I felt nothing."

Ginny did not pull her hand away, and he was thankful. She tried to speak but had to clear her voice. "What was all that stuff? There were so many bags with drugs in them, and we could not help the Mediwitches by telling them what you took. I was afraid we were going to lose you again."

Before Harry could speak, Arthur, Ron and Hermione walked inside the room, followed by a very responsive nurse.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter! Do you have any pain? Feel any nausea? Nose bleeds?"

Harry responded, miserably at the sight of everyone he knew. "My stomach burns and some nausea. Sort of dizzy."

"I will brew a potion right away, sit tight." The woman came to check his vitals with a wave and rushed off with the results. She left the room very quiet and uncomfortable. Harry didn't want to look at anyone.

Ginny started. "So, Harry says that wasn't his intent, he was just attempting to numb his emotions."

Ron snorted, appearing very hurt. Hermione hushed him.

"So, who found me?" he asked.

"Kreacher did," Arthur responded quietly. "He found you seizing on the floor and raced to get help. By the time we got to the room, you were already gone."

"I was speaking to my Mum," Harry said flatly. Everyone appeared confused. "I was speaking to her, and I felt someone hit my chest."

Hermione nodded. "I was with Ginny and before either of us could get to you, Mr. Weasley was already trying to bring you back."

Harry lowered his eyes in shame. The whole conversation was horribly awkward. "I was begging my Mum to take me with her. I was done trying, and I just wanted nothing else but to be free of it all. I wished to be with everyone who had died. She wouldn't let me."

Harry could see Ron tense his body and glare even harder, but Hermione wiped away a tear and nodded. "We understand, Harry. About everything that happened the other day."

He then realized how long he had been out. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "I took your phone. Sara ended up calling and we told each other everything that had happened. I'm so sorry about Mr. Birch!"

Harry's chest seized with panic. "You TOLD her?"

"WHAT THE HELL IS SHE SUPPOSED TO SAY? YOU'RE ON HOLIDAY?"

The sudden lash from Ron forced Harry suppress the hot tears lining his eyes. He glared back.

"Ron, enough!" Arthur hushed.

Hermione ignored them. "Look, Harry, Sara wanted me to tell you that Danny was found."

"Is he okay?" His insides squirmed, thinking of how he already lost his therapist.

Hermione smiled. "Just fine. He had attempted to find work outside of London and his phone fell into the metro track. Smashed to pieces. That's all! He's got a new one now."

Harry sighed in relief, almost laughing. "Oh, he really is going to get it."

"But we are sorry about Birch, Harry," said Ginny, reaching for his hand. "It's truly awful. He was such a support for you."

Harry could feel the depression sink back in, and the tears he forced away were now back. " _Damn it!"_ he thought in his head, embarrassed. "I can't replace him, no one can. But I think I depended on him too much, and when he was gone-so was my hope. But it's different now…"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Is it now?"

Harry ignored him. "When I was talking to my Mum, she said that all the help I ever wanted was with friends. I can say that for awhile I have failed to do that, and I think it is time to do it."

Arthur smiled. "Well, first things first-you are moving back into our home until Molly sees fit. You are attending everything you need, and doing whatever you need to do in order to not have something like this happen again. Yes?"

Arthur received a nod from Harry.

Ginny had a pained expression. "You know Mum was out of her mind. St. Mungos refuses to let her visit. I'd say you're in for it when you get out."

"She will love me, then hate me, won't she?"

Just then, the same Mediwitch scurried in, handing over a very blue liquid. "You will be let out as soon as you feel the effects of the potion. I will lead you down to the exit."

Ginny squeezed his hand excitedly, and he was happy to see her eyes dance with joy. He went back to the memory of his dream...and for a moment, he felt that freedom again. Perhaps all too soon he will be running through The Burrow, pain free and alive. In all of life's hardships, Harry truly began to understand that family was not just the misery of the Dursley's or retired in death. It was staring him in the face for years. It was if a switch flicked inside his head...it all made sense. He came to terms with all Mr. Birch had taught him. For once in a long while, he was ready to move on with those he loved by his side, as they always had been. Harry thought of his Mother, as beautiful and pure as he had always imagined her to be. One day he would return to her-But not now.

Harry caught a glance at himself in the mirror against the wall, where his eyes rested on the lightning bolt scar on his forehead- The scar that had labeled him for his entire life. The memory of Birch speaking about scars came to mind immediately, and that was one he could never find a new memory for. With almost a smile, Harry said to himself, "Just Harry", and finally set it to rest.


	30. Update---Oh Boy!

**Due to demand, I will actually be making a short epilogue for this story, and currently doing so. I have started graduate school so I may be a bit behind. Wanted to let you know to keep a heads up, and we shall see what happens with Harry after he gets out of St. Mungo's!**

 **Again, thank you for reading this story, it has meant a lot to me, and a way to spread ways to help you yourself when becoming overwhelmed with life. If Harry can do it, so can you! Healing is not linear, and you will always have your ups and downs. Feelings come and go. Stay strong, and dont forget to breathe.**


	31. Epilogue

**Here it is, as promised..a short epilogue. Just as I had said the chapter before in the update, thank you again for reading. I hope to inspire some of you to follow Harry and overcome your struggles with help of your friends and family. It gets better. Take time to care for yourself and be happy! You deserve it.**

Epilogue

Harry smoothed down his stubborn hair for the 10th time before giving up. He admired his smart appearance, dressed nicely for the party taking place at the Weasley's. It was his one year anniversary of freedom from the past. A year ago today he was released from St. Mungo's and began his life anew. Harry had worked hard to be here, and it wasn't easy.

FLASHBACK

"I just want to be alone tonight, Gin," he stated firmly. "Go home."

They had stood in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place near the sink where he was peeling carrots by hand, attempting to ignore her.

Ginny had refused. "You're doing it again, I see it in your face."

"Doing what?" He was becoming more irritated.

She folded her arms defiantly. "Shutting down. Whenever you do this we worry you're hiding something."

Harry's anger got the best of him. He dropped the peeler with a loud clatter and gripped the sink. "Like what? Coke? Alcohol? What is it? I told you I was done with that! It's been three months since St. Mungo's, okay! Sorry if I have a hard time finding another way to be upset!"

His outburst knocked her only partially silent. Her voice softened. "You cannot blame us for worrying, Harry. We had spent almost two years worrying for you. We just don't want to see it happen again."

Harry said nothing and still refused to look at her concerned face. He had almost wished she too had lost her temper and stomped out of his house, refusing to come back. Neither said a word, and he went back to his carrot, and her to her bag, departing silently.

END FLASHBACK

But twelve months after his shaming overdose, he was scarred but healing more than he ever was. He had listened to his mother and reached out to who he already had. Harry had lived with the Weasley's for three months before returning full time to his home they had remodeled. It was for sure more inviting and pleasing to the eyes. Kreacher had eagerly assisted to re-paint the walls, update wallpaper, and add lighter drapes. If anything, Harry could imagine it as a new home without the memories of the Order or Sirius every waking moment.

When memories did stalk his dreams, he talked about them. When he was triggered to visit David to use, he came forward. Slowly, day by day, he was earning trust back.

Hermione suggested that they all learn to do the same as Harry when it came to finding ways to calm themselves down. She had stated Ron needed it just as much as Harry did. Ron did not find it humorous. Harry did, in fact, teach them, and he felt important. He was a teacher, and when he needed it, they were his.

A soft knock brought Harry out of his thoughts. It was Hermione greeting him with a warm smile. She had a maroon dress on with a purple scarf. "It's almost one. Do you think Kreacher needs any help with the food?"

He rolled his eyes, smirking. "Kreacher is more than capable. That's what he loves to do. Don't get me into the whole S.P.E.W. thing again."

She laughed. "That silly thing made it to the Ministry, thank you very much! You are too good to him, Harry." Pausing, Hermione watched him give one more futile attempt of his hair then took his hand. "Let's go. Ginny sent me over because she is tired of hearing her Mother fret over when you are coming."

Harry sighed, following her down the hallway and towards the steps. Hermione could see he was thinking too hard.

"What is it, Harry?" She said, smiling, stopping them both before the stairs.

Giving a weak shrug, he managed to speak. "I just didn't want to make a big deal about this."

Hermione squeezed his hand. "Harry, this IS a big deal. Over three hundred and sixty five days of work toward finding yourself again. Even better, a new Harry Potter, not the Chosen One."

He nodded. "Yeah, I know. It's just...I don't…" he paused. "I'm afraid to fail, I guess. We are going to celebrate this and then what if I slip up tomorrow?"

Hermione realized what he was saying. She smiled. "Then we plan the next party."

Harry forced a laugh. What a simple answer. "Well, then let's go. I asked Mrs. Weasley to make her famous treacle tarts and I want to get there before Ron finds them."

With a WHOOSH both he and Hermione flooed to the Weasley household. The kitchen was full of activity and smelled of baking.

"Harry dear!" exclaimed Molly. "You made it! Man of the hour, of course!"

He felt his face blush red. "Sorry for being late."

She waved him off. "Arthur has set up tables outside. Take these doughballs out to him, will you? Everyone can help!" Molly emphasized her last statement to Ron, who came trudging down the steps appearing as though he had just awoken from a long nap.

"Heya, Harry," He yawned. "Been looking forward to all this food all week."

"Hopefully you just have to wait another year for the next one." Harry remarked, taking the bowl Mrs. Weasley offered him.

Ron begrudgingly took plates outside and the two of them found Mr. Weasley waving his wand to align the linen tablecloths perfectly across the long oak table.

"Today's the big day!" the man exclaimed. "How do you feel, Harry?"

Harry accepted the fierce embrace from him and laughed. "Definitely better than how I was last year. Still hard, but better."

Mr. Weasley gave him a smirk. "We were all rooting for you, son. And we will keep doing so! But first, we need to celebrate." The man took the food from Harry's hands and placed it next to the plates Ron was setting down.

And the food...Harry could only compare it to the Great Hall and all the work done by the House Elves. By the end of the hour, every Weasley, Fleur, and Hermione all sat before him at the dinner table. He could feel emotions tug at his throat for what his friends were doing for him. Yes, he managed a year, but he could not have done it without them.

Harry raised his glass for a toast. "This is for all of you. If I didn't have any of you to lean on, I would not be alive today. I really mean it. Thank you."

Mrs. Weasley's eyes gleamed with tears and pride. Harry flushed with swelling emotion, and he felt Ginny take hold of his hand. The past year had developed quickly, and he needed it to in order to find a constant distraction to his troubling thoughts. In one month he would be starting at the Auror Academy with Ron, per high regard from Kingsley, of course. Not that they really needed it. Harry and Ginny were forced to sit down and talk about what that meant for the future.

FLASHBACK

"You know I want to marry you, Ginny," he said softly, playing with her hair as they lay close to one another in his bed. "But we have to talk about me being an Auror."

The moon shone bright across her face that held a soft smile toward it. She rolled over to meet his eyes.

"Well I hope you marry me. It would be terribly awkward if we didn't. Can you imagine hanging out with Ron with me around?"

Harry laughed, placing a small kiss on her neck. It was soft and he fought hard to keep the conversation going. "You're avoiding the topic."

Ginny groaned as if being assigned one of McGonagall's 3 ft essays. "Must we talk about it now? You're only seven months after healing and you will only put yourself back into that frame of mind."

Harry had prepared himself for this discussion repeatedly in his mind, and he pretended to scoff. "What do you mean?"

Her tone shifted. "It's just...you know it will bring back memories. Your hypervigilance can bring back that panic. Why don't you just wait a few years?"

A gentle sigh escaped his lips. Harry came to the realization that she had the very same conversation with everyone, who most likely agreed with her. Still, they doubted, but he was no longer at the point where his friends used to tread on eggshells. Weekly therapy, groups and wrestling with his own mind made sure of it. Instead of becoming angry, as the old Harry would have, he nuzzled her lovingly.

"It _is_ sooner than what I had thought months back, but I feel ready. I can't keep avoiding it any longer. Otherwise I would be doing nothing with my life. I need to...move on."

Ginny tensed in his arms, and he was alarmed to see her lips quiver. Were there tears in her eyes?

"Oh, Harry!" she said breathlessly. "You have no idea how long we have been waiting for you to say that!"

Realization struck him like a brick. "I know. Moving on-can you believe it? Months ago I couldn't even deal with a visit from you at Dartford without blaming myself for Fred."

He felt her squirm, and Ginny turned to face him-wrapping her arms around his neck. "Hm...maybe you are ready, Harry. You amaze me more and more."

He couldn't put into words how much he loved her, and the two of them kissed passionately. Ginny pulled him on top and he pressed himself into her, failing to control a gentle moan. She only held him stronger. Harry was floating high with pride and love. There was nothing stopping him from living.

END FLASHBACK

Harry watched his friends eat and enjoy themselves with happiness swelling from his chest. With their chatter excited and laughter boisterous, all had something to celebrate-peace...family...relief...a gathering Harry never thought he would hear again months beforehand. Mrs. Weasley was giggling as her husband met her with a kiss. Hermione and Ron were hiding their hands folded together under the tablecloths...as if no one knew already. The happiness overwhelmed him.

He needed a break.

The napkin that covered his lap now lay on the table as Harry rose from his chair. He averted his moist eyes from his friends and feigned need for the restroom. Once inside, the clatter of cutlery and voices softened. He breathed in..held it for four, and blew out for three. Just as Birch had taught him. Quickly, he made may for the upstairs bathroom, relieved that no one had attempted to follow him inside. With the door shut, Harry washed his face and stared at himself in the mirror pensively, hearing Mr. Weasley's booming laugh from the lawn. With the need to cry passed, Harry regulated himself and reminded that this was good...all of it...and moving on would be his most amazing journey. One day, he was going to take Ginny's hand, and he would take care of her for the rest of their lives together. She would be his world. He ran his fingers through his hair and let out a sigh. Life will continue to be difficult, Harry knew. Every day was a day to win and lose, and he could not give up as he had in the past. If he really wanted Ginny, and if he truly wanted to make his mother proud-he could never quit. _Failing happens,"_ He thought. " _But I have to get up."_ Just as Hermione had told him on days he refused to get out bed, "Just get up and get dressed, then you're halfway there." He felt a smile crawl across his face...if anything, he could always be 'halfway there' whenever he needed to be.

More laughter brought him from his thoughts, and Harry took another breath. Assuming he had taken enough time, he left the bathroom and made way to continue the celebration. Ginny was the first to see him return, and she reached her arm out for him to come and embrace her-just as she had always done.

Harry could not have been more happy, and he made his way to do so.

 **THE END**


End file.
